#listen: tony would have great handwriting

[marvelwitchergilmore]

Bloody Pardon

Summary: Anthony Lockwood x Fe!Reader ~ Despite your feelings towards Anthony Lockwood, you're starting to think that nightmare you had about locking him in a trunk chest might have actually been a dream.

Disclaimer: no idea on legally binding marriages but we'll ignore that for this fic. Quill Kipps platonic relationship with the reader (frenemies + his crush on Lucy)

You laughed nervously. “What?”

Lucy stood up from her corner of the sofa to look at the wide-eyed George. “George? Please, please tell me this is an April Fools.”

“Given that it’s the middle of November, this is definitely not an April Fools.” George replied. 

“George!” 

You hadn’t meant to call his name so loudly, but the information he’d just given you pardoned your reaction. 

“What if you just ask him about it? Maybe he’ll have an explanation.”

“An explanation?” you questioned before laughing. “Oh, he better. Or else, I’ll kill him.”

Lucy jumped in front of you and pulled you back. “Wait, no. Don’t. Not yet. Look, we don’t even know if he knows yet.”

“How can he not know?”

“You didn’t.”

“He’s the one who probably signed the papers in the first place, Lucy!”

“Look, why doesn’t one of us just go and ask him?”

“Great!” you forced a smile. “I’ll go.”

“Absolutely not.” Lucy pulled you back again. “George, you go.”

“But-”

“George.”

“Fine.”

George disappeared from the doorway and made his way upstairs towards Lockwood’s room. He’d been up there most of the day running through multiple papers on the business and the cases that had come through in the past couple of days. 

“Lucy?”

Lucy turned around and found you slumped against the arm of the sofa. 

“Hey,”

Pulling your hands from your face, Lucy held onto your wrists and knelt down. “Look at me.”

“How could this have happened?”

“I don’t know. But I do know Lockwood.”

Lucy paused for a moment. “I don’t think he will even know what this is about.”

“But if he has…”

“Then we’ll deal with it and I’ll help you bury his body in the back garden. You’ll get through this. We all will.”

“I don’t even know how this could have happened.”

Lucy pulled you in for a hug, tightly. “How about I pop the kettle on? Make us some tea? Two sugars?”

You nodded. “Thanks.”

“Come on.”

However, before either of you could get out of the living room, Lockwood came running down the stairs, George quick on his tail. “Lockwood?”

Lucy called his name but there was no breaking his concentration from the paper in his hand that had both his own handwriting on and somebody else’s. He rushed around the place before making his way into the kitchen. 

Luckily, you managed to catch the door before it slammed behind him and you made your way inside. 

“Lockwood?”

“Something’s not right.”

“You’re telling me.”

“Saint’s would have said something. Surely, he would have-” 

He was talking about the case. 

“Lockwood? Did you not hear anything George told you?” Lucy asked before turning to her left. “You did tell him, didn’t you?”

“Yes! Whether he listened or not, I don’t really know.”

“Lockwood!” you called his name again, but still nothing. 

“Tony!”

Oh, boy. 

You took the paper from his hand and slammed it onto the counter top.

“My- what? Am I in trouble?”

“Trouble? Have you not listened to a word George told you?”

“When? Oh, no. But I think I’ve almost solved-”

“We’re married, Tony!”

Lockwood’s face went from a smile to a confused and nervous look of curiosity. “What?”

“Surely, you would have known? After all, you were the one who was left alone in the courthouse three months ago.”

“Courthouse? What are you talking about?”

Sighing, you made your way to George who handed you the three pieces of paper he’d found when down at the CourtHouse himself. 

“Mr and Mrs Lockwood.” you read the first letter. “Congratulations on your marriage, enclosed you will find another copy of your marriage certificate…” you continued to read the rest of the letter before shoving it into his chest and reading aloud the next two. 

“A letter, sent to me by your Great-Aunt. Welcome to the Family. Now, as much as I love all of you as my family, I would have liked to at least be made aware that I was suddenly in need of changing my last name.”

The final piece of paper was a letter from Mark Smith-Kensington. 

“We have recently been made aware of your nuptials. In this case, you are in need of updating all of your personal information for the Post Office, as well as medical forms and driving license.”

You pushed the final letter against his chest. “What did you do Lockwood?”

Lockwood’s head was spinning. How could this have- oh. 

“Lockwood?”

Lockwood turned to both Lucy and George. He knew something. Maybe not what they suspected he knew, but he definitely knew something. 

“Please don’t be mad.”

“Mad? Ooh, Lockwood.” you had to laugh, or else you might have cried. “I am so far past mad. We are married and you didn’t even bother to, I don’t know, ask me? Tell me, even, that you’d decided to use my name for a marriage certificate.”

“It was meant to be fake-”

“I beg your bloody pardon?”

“It was meant to be fake. Remember how I told you I managed to get into Jameson’s Club so we could prove Harold was the murderer. Well, they didn’t exactly let single people in.”

“Oh, my god.”

“I swear, I thought it was fake.”

“Well, it’s very, very real Lockwood. Very real.”

“Where are you going?” Lockwood called after you as you made your way out of the kitchen, grabbing your jacket that lay on the back of the kitchen chair. 

“Out. Don’t follow me.”

You didn’t know how far you had travelled but eventually you came to a stop at a small, quiet park. You sat down on an old wooden bench that was donated by Harriet Smith - some wealthy heiress from New York who had spent her childhood in the park. 

After a while, you heard a voice. And it definitely wasn’t the voice you were expecting. 

“Hello.”

You sat up straight for a moment and looked around you before you found Quill Kipps standing behind you in a pair of jeans, a shirt and a grey woollen coat. 

“Oh, hi.”

“Mind if I-”

“Sure.” you smiled before he made his way around and sat next to you, leaving enough of a space between the both of you. 

“What are you doing this far away from the house?”

“I needed a break.”

“From…”

“Look, if you want me to shit-talk Lockwood, you can go and find someone else to do that with.” 

Quill studied your face for a short moment as you looked at him before turning back to look at the trees in the park. 

“What’s happened?”

“What?”

“No offence, but you’re not the best at hiding your emotions when it comes to Lockwood. What’s happened between the both of you?”

“Nothing.”

Kipps called your name in a soft tone. Despite your feelings towards him, you’d each found yourself in each other’s company in the time of need. And from that, a small friendship blossomed - despite the fact that both of you disliked it greatly. 

After all, you were both still rivals. 

You sighed. “Fine. You are looking at the new Mrs Anthony Lockwood.”

“What?”

You turned to look at him, “Lockwood and I are married. Apparently, the form he made me sign to get into Jameson’s was a marriage certificate.”

Kipps didn’t know where to put himself. He knew Lockwood could be reckless and stupid at times, but he didn’t think he would be that reckless and stupid. 

“I’d offer to kill him but I’d wager you already have that planned.”

“Death certificate is signed, sealed and delivered to the Grim Reaper.”

“Need a clean up crew?” Kipps offered. 

You laughed, “Thanks.”

“So that’s why you’re out here? Escaping your husband? I have to hand it to you, it’s a good alibi.”

You smiled again, keeping your arms folded across your middle. “Honestly, I…I don’t know whether to be mad and kill him or just…”

“Sit here forever?”

“Yeah.”

“Mind if I stick with you, for a while?”

“You don’t have your own surprise marriage, do you?”

Kipps laughed. “No. I just…I-I’m thinking about asking out a girl.”

“Is she cute?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you like her?”

“A lot.”

“Is she kind?”

“Yeah.”

“She Lucy?”

Kipps half answered you before turning his head to you where he found you with a smug smile on your face. 

“How did you-”

“Oh, please. I see you when you’re around her. You’re either blushing like an embarrassed toddler or you’re as speechless as a toddler.”

“Do you think she knows?”

“No. Or, if she has, she hasn't said anything.”

“Oh.”

Kipps seemed a little defeated at first. “But you should ask her out for a coffee at least. I have a feeling she’ll say yes.”

He smiled. “Great.”

“At least someone in that house will feel good about their love life.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I don’t know.” you shrugged. “But once he reads that letter, he’ll realise that his Great-Aunt Violet is coming for a visit to officially meet her new great-niece. So, that’ll be fun.”

“Well, I’m here if you need any back-up.”

“Thank you, Quill.”

“Anytime.”

Eventually, Quill helped you up from the bench and you both made your way back to Portland Row. On the way, you both stopped inside a small cafe for some food and a tea, making sure to pick Lucy up a loaf of bread and some doughnuts for George. 

Unlocking the door, Lucy met you at the bottom of the stairs where Quill called for her to talk. 

“Are you okay?”

“I will be.”

Making your way into the kitchen, you placed the packet of doughnuts onto the table for George. 

“Oh, thank you.”

“Where’s Lockwood?”

“In his room. He’s been on the phone to the marriage people since you left.”

You nodded your head and popped the kettle on, managing to make two cups of tea before Lockwood even thought to leave his room. 

Knocking on the door, you entered and found him with the phone and the back of his hand pressed to his head, his eyes shut closed. 

“Thought you might fancy a cup.”

Lockwood jumped at your voice but quickly tried to recover. 

“T-Thanks. Thank you.”

Pulling up a chair, you sat beside his desk, crossing one leg over the other. 

“I’m really sorry,” Lockwood began. “I - I know it was stupid. A completely stupid idea. And, I don’t want to just make an excuse.”

“But it was for the case.”

“I should have still thought. But, I swear. I swear to you, I really thought it was fake. If I’d have known-”

You nodded. “I know. I know you would have done. But…Tony, what are we going to do?”

“I’ve been trying to find out how to get a divorce but they keep sending me round the houses.”

“Did you read your Aunt’s letter?”

“Not fully.”

“She’s coming up to visit us in a week. Apparently wants to officially meet her niece.”

“That’ll be something.”

You nodded and the pair of you sat in a quiet silence for a few moments. “I’ll figure it out. I promise.”

“Thank you, Tony.”

[x-ceirios-x]

promise I won't break your heart

isabelle needs a break from tensions in the house and runs into a new friend in the accords hall. he's different than she's used to, but she didn't realize how much the company would help.

cw: mentions of character death, mention of blood

It probably wasn’t a good idea, all things considered, but Isabelle needed a break. Between listening to her mother cry through the wall and Rowan arguing with their dad down the hall, she needed fresh air and quiet. She didn’t tell anyone she was leaving, just left a quick note on her bed with scrawled, messy handwriting that she had gone out and would be back soon. Hopefully, no one came to check on her in the time she was gone and she wouldn’t get in any trouble. 

She turned down the road, towards the center of the city. Alicante was beautiful—despite the densely populated city, she got better fresh air than she ever did in New York. Idris had this weird feeling of home, she realized when they got there. Like, no matter what happened, there was always some place she could come back to. She loved the atmosphere and the people, despite the rising tensions and the pit of guilt in her stomach she felt whenever she thought about Max, which was nearly all the time. 

Without really thinking, she took the road down to the Accords Hall. It held complicated memories for her—just earlier that day, she’d been there with her parents and the rest of her family, all mourning Max’s death. To her surprise, it looked…normal. Maybe it was her thinking about Max, but she was almost angry that the Hall hadn’t changed when something in her life had just changed so drastically. The world around her was unmoving but she felt like she was walking through the ocean, fighting harder with each step to just keep moving at this point. 

She stared at the doors of the Accords Hall and glared. They were wide open, allowing anyone inside, and the dais in the center had shattered glass around it from where something broke the ceiling in the demon attack. For the most part it was empty—she figured people weren’t there unless they needed to be. To her surprise, in one of the open bench seats surrounding the dais, about half way up, she noticed a semi-familiar face staring out the door. He didn’t look at her, but almost through her, like he was physically in the Hall but mentally somewhere else entirely. 

Isabelle walked into the Hall, across the room, and up the stairs. She sat next to the boy, following his gaze to wherever it landed. She hadn’t noticed it before, but there was a small blood stain on the floor behind the dais. She decided not to mention it unless he did; she didn’t want to know whose blood it was. 

“Tony, right?” she asked, turning towards him slightly. She remembered him from the party a few days ago—he was friends with Aline and her parabatai, Lian. She’d been too interested in flirting with Sebastian to really pay attention to him, but he seemed nice from what he saw. She wished she would have been flirting with him—or anyone else, really. She didn’t want to think about Sebastian at the moment. 

He nodded, though he didn’t speak. He continued staring at the blood on the floor—for as little as it was, she couldn’t figure out why it was so interesting. There was a stark contrast between the deep red and the white marble floor, though, so maybe it was just something to look at. 

“Isabelle,” she said with a small sigh. She didn’t know why she was there, really. She had enough of her own problems to deal with, dealing with someone else’s wasn’t exactly a great idea. But she wanted something else to think about and he could pose a good distraction. “Do you remember me from the party?”

He nodded again. This whole not-talking thing weirded her out a little, but she figured he was just quiet around strangers, kinda like Alec or Rowan. 

“What’s up with you?” she asked casually, hoping to sound non-judgemental. “Cat got your tongue?”

For the first time, he pulled his eyes away from the floor and looked at him. He had incredibly blue eyes—like sapphires. He looked at her for a moment, then reached for something in his back pocket. To her surprise, he pulled out a small pocket journal with a pen attached; he untied the cords around it and opened to a random blank page. I lost my voice. Sick, he wrote. He stared, imploring her to believe him. She didn’t remember him having any issues talking a few days ago, though she wasn’t paying close attention. Why he didn’t use a rune or go to a store for some magic, herbal tea, she didn't know. That’s what she always did. 

“Got it. Feel better,” she said. “Would you rather me leave you alone, then?”

He wrote again. The pen was plain, but she noticed the pink ribbon tied on the clip. It made her wonder if he had a younger sister or something. Maybe she liked comics like Max did. 

I actually like the company. If you don't mind staying.

She read the scratchy, thin writing and gave him a half-hearted smile. “I don’t really feel like being alone right now. I don’t mind.”

He nodded and added to the line before it. I heard about your brother. I’m sorry.

Isabelle clenched her jaw the moment she saw the word brother. She took in a sharp breath, though she tried to seem relaxed. “No need to apologize for it. Nothing you can do.”

He offered a thin-lipped, encouraging smile. I lost my sister when I was young. Her name was Amelia. I understand. 

“I’m sorry,” she said.

I thought there was no need to apologize?

The little smile he gave her made her laugh—he was being sarcastic, as hard as it was to portray through writing. Though it wasn’t much, it was something after such a painful day. She could see the sun starting to set above them; the sky was getting more orange. The night before, when the sky was orange, it was due to the flames of the city. Things were calmer now, though it didn’t ease her anxiety about what was to come. Valentine was still out there, threatening to massacre them all. 

“What are you doing in here, anyway?” she asked after a moment. “It’s not exactly the mall.”

He looked ahead at the stain on the floor again, staring blankly again for a few seconds, when he turned back to the book. He waved the pen over the page, hovering it like he was searching for the words. He thought and finally gathered them: the Inquisitor was my uncle.

Isabelle frowned. She knew everything that happened with Simon and the fact that he was still stuck in the Gard because of Aldertree, but she had to have sympathy for Tony. Losing family was hard in general, even if his uncle was a stuck-up, two-faced bastard who only cared about his own reputation. 

He wrote again. I know he wasn’t a good person. I didn’t vote for him for Inquisitor. But he was letting me stay here with him because I wanted to be more involved in the Clave.

She nodded at his words and carefully, very carefully, placed her hand over his. His eyes widened, but he relaxed quickly. “We already decided ‘sorry’s won’t do anything. But for what it’s worth, it sucks.”

He cracked a small smile—faint, at the corner of his mouth. It was more genuine than she’d seen so far. He looked nice when he smiled, she thought, his eyes were pretty and he had very soft features that were just…pretty. He glanced down at the book and scratched a quick, it does.

He let her talk for a while. Tony was a great listener—to her surprise, he paid attention to every word she said, hanging on it like it was the most interesting show he’d ever watched. He added little commentary to things she said with the book, some of it sarcastic, some of it another way of thinking about it, some of it simply his shocked facial expressions. She told him more than she probably should have, considering everything that happened, but at least she knew who he was. His father was a professor at the Academy before it shut down and, the more she thought about it she remembered, his sister’s death was something of a spectacle that even her parents heard about in New York when she was a kid. Not that she would tell him that. 

But Tony was something else entirely, he was much more than just his family. He was attentive and kind, he played piano in his free time and loved poetry and art. He mentioned these little things as she spoke, which made her want to ask more questions, but it was hard for him to write everything out. 

The sun had completely set. She noticed the time and realized she should probably get home before anyone started panicking about her absence. With a sigh, she turned to him and said, “I have to get going.”

He nodded and turned back to the book, flipping to a page towards the front. Thank you, it said next to where pointed, followed by, she assumed, the same phrase written in a few other languages. She wondered if he spoke them all but she didn't have time to ask—that would lead to another fifteen-minute-minimum conversation that she should really spend walking home. He flipped forward in the book again and wrote, would you like company on the walk?

She chuckled and shook her head. “I’m alright. I promise I’m a big strong Shadowhunter and can take care of myself.”

Tony blushed a little at that, his eyes widening slightly. He probably thought she was offended at his offer, based on what she said, but it was just the opposite. She found it funny. 

“Don’t worry,” she said, waving him off. “But thank you for the offer.” She stood, and it hit her how much she really didn’t want to stop talking to him. She had to get back, as irritating as it was. She didn’t want to go back to the house full of sorrow and misery when she knew she could pretend reality didn’t exist for a little while. 

An idea hit her. She held her hand out for the book, which he gave her despite the clear confusion on his face. She flipped to the last page they’d been talking on and wrote something herself. When she was done, she handed the book and pen back to him. “Send me a fire message sometime,” she said. “Or, I put my phone number on there, too. So when you feel better, you can call me.”

He grinned and nodded in agreement. She turned away and walked down a few of the stairs, towards the center of the hall, when she heard behind her, “Isabelle?”

She turned. Half of her wasn’t sure it was really him who spoke—she didn’t remember hearing his voice at the party so had nothing to compare it to. “Yes?” she asked. 

“I, ah…” he said, his eyes falling into his lap for a moment as he put the words together, “I liked talking to you. Thank you.”

She smiled at him and gave him a little wave before turning away. It was strange to talk with someone for so long without hearing their voice, but she liked him either way. She liked how he said her name—he had a bit of an accent, though it was fairly neutral. Usually when she was upset, she looked for…other kinds of distractions, but Tony was different. He was pretty and funny and something to keep her mind of reality and exactly what she needed. She looked forward to hearing from him after this. 

[lovelyirony]

Honestly Tony Stark is such a tech person and you would probably never see his actual handwriting, but consider: 

His handwriting is gorgeous. Maria Stark could never the future of computers, even being in the middle of it. She was certain that handwriting would still be very important, and Tony should know how to write. 

They have classes after dinner, in lamp light. The record player plays soft piano melodies, and the occasional violin concertos. (Maria hates these because they remind her of a family she left behind for this one, but Tony loves them.) She corrects his handwriting, tells him that he won’t ever be taken seriously if his handwriting is dreadful. (Sometimes, he writes his signature in print, which is terrible scrawl, similar to Howard’s, just to spite his mother’s soul.) 

Cursive is easier to write, and there’s only one time that the team has caught him writing. The tower was out of commission for electricity while he was securing the arc reactor after a possible security breach. He was handwriting notes, and Natasha peeked over his shoulder. 

“Oh my god.” She takes the notes out of his grasp, and Tony doesn’t like it. “Guys, get over here!” 

“Nat, give me back my notes,” Tony whines. “Why do you even care?” 

“Because your handwriting is gorgeous,” Bruce retorts, looking over Natasha’s shoulder. “I thought you were a doctor.” 

“Very funny Bruce,” Tony says dryly. The other members of the team come over. 

“Oh my god,” Clint says. “This is such good handwriting.” 

“I’m high society, of course I have good handwriting,” Tony snaps. “What did you guys expect?” 

“Tony, you have spent thirty-six hours in your lab because you were trying to make chocolate chip muffins have more chocolate chips,” Thor says gravely. “We were very concerned. You only spouted gibberish about the man Fieri.” 

“His name is Guy.” 

“I refuse to accept that Midgardians have such terrible names.” Clint snickers; he had convinced Thor that Guy was a terrible name. (Not really, Thor already thought the name was bad.) 

“This looks like my old teacher’s handwriting,” Steve says. “She curled the j’s a bit more.” 

“Well gee golly, sorry to let you down,” Tony retorts, grinning. 

“You’re fine. I hated her,” Steve says. “God, Mrs. Hedge. I haven’t thought of her in about ten years.”  Tony “hmmphs” and grabs his notes back. 

“Yeah well, cursive. Big deal.” He retreats back to his workshop, using seven candles (all fall-scented, because Pepper stockpiles candles and forgets to use them) to rewrite a note. 

(and if his friends get handwritten cards for Christmas and birthdays, then he doesn’t “remember” writing them.) 

(and if they get fancy name tags for their rooms then tony doesn’t know how they got there jarvis probably did it) 

(In the new SI phone update, Jarvis sneaked it in to be a font for writing. People love it. Tony is mortified. Pepper keeps sending emails with his handwriting and Tony refuses to answer them on principle.) 

[bucksfucks]

𝙁𝘽𝙍𝙊 ; 𝗯𝘂𝗰𝗸𝘆 𝗯𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗲𝘀 [𝟳/𝟭𝟭]

summary┃bucky’s past comes back with a vengeance and you’re determined to get the answers you’ve been searching for. 

pairing┃roommate!bucky x f!reader

word count┃2,682 words

warnings┃bucky’s past is revealed, character mentions; [sam wilson, natasha romanoff, tony stark], pet name [kid (platonic), sweets & baby], threats made against bucky + reader, trust-issues, mention of hit-men, brief mention of death, phone sex, praise kink, masturbation, mention of toys, slight angst, soft ending — 18+ ONLY • MINORS DNI

notes┃there is A LOT of plot here but also some filthy goodness and a sprinkle of angst <<3

SERIES MASTERLIST

     Ex-wife.

    Bucky’s words echoed in your ears as he didn’t dare to look at you.

    His ex-wife was threatening you.

    And he didn’t think to mention her? Ever?

    “Can I please explain?” Bucky croaked finally, voice sounding broken as you shrugged your shoulders — in a state of shock.

    That was all he needed before he recounted his previous relationship with the woman who was now sending you threatening emails.

    Married young, too young and too fast and it ended up blowing up in their faces.

    Well, clearly she hadn’t gotten over it.

    “I thought I lost her,” he explains. “I thought that moving halfway across the country would be enough.”

    You finally looked up to meet his eyes, glossy, sad and terrified as you sniffled.

    “There’s a reason only Tasha calls me James.”

    It broke your heart hearing that, the way his head hung low and he nearly winced at the sound of his own goddamn name.

    But you didn’t know who to trust anymore.

    Bucky always glossed over how he, Sam, and Nat knew each other — telling you that they were old friends that go back.

    How far back?

    You needed to know, but clearly you weren’t about to get answers from him.

    “Buck,” he stopped you, taking a step closer as his eyes begged and pleaded you not to finish your sentence. 

    “I can’t,” he shook his head, “I need some time.” 

    You couldn’t bring yourself to say those words that would shatter both of your world’s. But you had no idea what the hell you had gotten yourself into and you needed answers. 

    And you knew exactly who to go to for them. 

    “I understand,” Bucky sighed. “I’ll stay at Sam’s for some time, okay?” 

    You could only nod your head, watching him walk past you and into his door. 

    Then he shut it, something he never did because his door was always open for you. No matter what you needed and no matter what time of day it was. 

    It felt...wrong. 

    But you couldn’t dwell on it, grabbing your keys, phone, and whatever other important things you could think of being you nearly bolted out of the front     door. 

    You plugged your headphones into your phone, hitting shuffle and descending down into the subway. 

    The entire ride made you anxious, slowly approaching your stop and you were way out of place in this crowd. 

    People rushed by you in expensive suits and what you could only guess were the infamous red-soled shoes that were worth close to your monthly rent, if not more. 

    You cringed, thinking of the man you were about to see in his stupidly tall office building that you had to crane your neck at an uncomfortable angle just     to get a look at. 

    The elevator could not have taken longer, tapping your foot impatiently as you rode up to what felt like the heavens before the doors opened to revel smooth wooden doors that reach from the ceiling to the floor. 

    You were so close, before you were stopped. 

    “Ma’am, I’m sorry, you can’t be here right now.” A man’s voice stopped you, dressed in a security guard uniform and oh, this was so him. 

    “I know him,” you said, intent on seeing the man probably sitting behind those large doors. 

    “I’m sorry, I can’t let you do th—”

    “It’s okay, Marv. I know her,” his voice came not from behind the doors, but from the long hallway to your left. 

    The security guard, Marv, nodded his head as he looked at you once more before retreating back to where he was leaning against one of the walls. 

    “This is a surprise,” you rolled your eyes, “Tony, please. I don’t wanna hear it.” 

    He walked over to you, embracing you in a hug, “oh c’mon, I’ve missed you, Kid.” 

    You shook your head, “I haven’t been a kid in years,” you tried to remind him, but it was Tony, he wasn’t going to listen as he just laughed it off and welcomed you into his office. 

    It was much different from last time, all new furniture and appliances, but nothing lasted more than a year with Tony. 

    Tony was an old friend, sort of.

    He was an old friend of your father’s, something like an uncle, but also like your older brother. 

    So just one giant pain in your ass.

    “So,” Tony sighed. “What trouble did you get into this time, Kid?”

    You told Tony everything. 

    From being roommates with Bucky to the way he asked you to be his fake girlfriend to Sam’s wedding and all the way to the situation you were in now. Confronted by his ex-wife without any idea of what she was going to do. 

    Tony had that look on his face. The one where he was going to tell you that you were crazy. 

    “I don’t know how you manage to get yourself into these situations,” he chuckled, hand clamping over your shoulder as he walked around his desk and typed something into his computer. 

    “Last name is,” he looked at you. “Barnes.” 

    He nodded his head, typing away at his computer again before he stopped. 

    There was a brief moment of silence, Tony hiding behind the computer screen before he stood up and walked back around the desk, “I’m gonna need some time.”

    You understood, shaking your head. You were asking Tony to hack into any known database and collect as much data on Bucky as you could. It was wrong, but you just needed to know who you were dealing with. 

    “Thank you, Tony. I-I really appreciate it.” You weren’t good when it came to...well, the heartfelt side of things but luckily neither was Tony. 

    “Don’t get sappy on me now, Kid. You know it makes me sick,” he joked playfully, smile on his lips as you stood up to give him a half hug. 

    “I’ll call you as soon as I know anything.” He promised before you walked out of the too-tall building with far more questions than you came with. 

    It was a waiting game that you didn’t want to play, but you didn’t have a choice. 

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

    It seemed like your relationship with Bucky was doomed from the start. 

    Friends to lovers rarely, if ever, works out in anyone’s favour. 

    The fake dating trope you could handle, pushing your feelings aside to help Bucky win a bet didn’t seem like the worst thing in the world. You had a great time, great fucking sex, and a trip out of it. 

    Then Steve wouldn’t leave the picture. Going as far as coming to the wedding as Natasha’s boyfriend to spite you not realizing that you and Bucky had gotten married. 

    Married. 

    You and Bucky were married. Bonded in a whole other way and now, his ex-wife was out for you and him. 

    Maybe this was a sign from the universe, a big red fucking flag telling you that it wasn’t worth it and yet...you couldn’t let go. 

    The apartment felt empty without Bucky, his bedroom left the way it was in the morning with your favourite sweater of his laid out on the covers and a little post-it note on top of it. 

    You never could really decipher Bucky’s handwriting. It was absolute chicken scratch as you picked it up and managed to make out in case you get cold scribbled onto it. 

    It was an easy decision to pull it over your head and drown yourself in the scent of Bucky’s cologne as you fiddled with the small gold band you now wore around your neck as a necklace. 

    You didn’t want anyone other than Bucky. There was no in the world who understood you better. Who knew how to make you laugh when you were having a bad day. 

    Everything led you right back to Bucky. 

    So when your phone rang from the other side of the couch, you were secretly hoping it was Bucky. 

    Instead, Tony’s name flashed and your heart sank into your stomach as you quickly hit answer and held the phone up to your ear. 

    “You’re not gonna like this, Kid.” Tony’s voice flowed through the speakers as you took a shaky breath in and braced yourself for what Tony was about to tell you. 

    “He did a damn good job at erasing his history, but you can’t erase all of it,” Tony chuckled as you rolled your eyes, “quit stalling.”

    He sighed, “the Howling Commandos was an organization tasked with,” he paused, “tasked with collecting intel and making sure that information never got released to the public.” 

    This time, it was your turn to fall silent. 

    “Like, spies?” You asked and Tony hummed, “sort of.” 

    “They had spies, agents, hit-men.” 

    No. You shook your head, no. 

    “James Buchanan Barnes was their highest ranking hit-man. Him, along with Sam Wilson and Natasha Romanova worked as a team. A spy, agent, hit-man trio.” 

    You had to shake yourself out of spiralling, what you needed was everything Tony could possible tell you. 

    “Anything on his ex-wife?” You then asked and heard shuffling on the other line, “not much. Mary Barnes, but I doubt that’s her real name, was part of a training initiative the Howling Commandos were testing.” 

    You bit your lip, at least you had a name, even if it wasn’t her real name. 

    “By that point it looks like James—” 

    “Bucky. His name is Bucky.” 

    Tony cleared his throat after a moment’s silence, “Bucky looks like he had disappeared. Blipped off of the face of the Earth. There’s nothing in his file after 2014.” 

    That makes sense. Bucky was perhaps the most old-fashioned man you knew, only upgrading from his flip-phone just a few years ago. He barely knew how to unlock it, though. 

    “Sam and Natasha went on to live normal lives, Kid. I’m sure that’s all Bucky wants.” Tony tries to assure you and you laugh, “you sound like my dad.” 

    He laughed on the other line, “oh gross.” 

    “Thanks for everything, Tony.” You said, “you know what number to call in case you’re in trouble.” 

    With that, you both hung up, tossing your phone away from you to digest everything you’d just been told. You knew you had to talk to Bucky, but you didn’t know when. 

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

    “So you’re tellin’ me,” Sam was confused. “That this is the same Mary that tried to get you killed?” 

    Bucky rolled his eyes, taking another swing of his beer as he rounded Sam’s kitchen island. 

    “That’s the one, you know, the undercover agent working for Strucker.” Bucky scowled at the name. 

    He was angry, beyond angry at the fact that his past was creeping up on him despite how far he had gone to erase it. 

    “But why now? Why come after you now?” Sam poses the question that even Bucky doesn’t have an answer to. So he just shrugs his shoulders and finishes off his beer. 

    “Unfinished business.” 

    They stand in silence for a little while longer, listening to the old ticking clock hanging on the wall before Sam takes a step towards Bucky. 

    “Whatever you need, you know that Tasha and I are here for you, right?” He whispers and Bucky feels the warmth blooming in his chest as he gives him a half-smile. 

    “Yeah,” he nods his head, “thanks, man.” 

    Sam knows that Bucky was never really good at the sappy shit, so he doesn’t force it. Instead, he offers him another beer, bottle necks clinking as Bucky’s thoughts race. 

    He was worried. 

    Not about himself, but about you. 

    And you were worried about Bucky, curling up in his bed as you sighed and tossed and turned. There was no way you’d be able to fall asleep alone tonight. And hugging his pillow just wasn’t enough. 

    So you grabbed your phone, hitting his name and waiting for the ringing to sound before he picked up — tired and groggy.

    “We need to talk.” You didn’t give him a chance to greet you. He sighed on the other line, but hummed in agreement, “tomorrow?”

    You hummed in response to his question, the sound of his voice soothing as you played with the sheets of his bed.

    “I miss you, Sweets.” Bucky whispered, your breathing hitching at how low and raspy his voice really was.

    “I miss you too, Bucky.” You admitted, shifting as you got comfortable on the pile of pillows against your head.

    There was a moment of silence before Bucky spoke again.

    “You know what ‘m really missin’ right now?” His words sent a shiver down your spine as you shakily inhaled, “what?”

    Bucky sighed, reminiscent of how he sighs when he runs his hands all over your body. 

    “I miss that sweet cunt of yours.” Bucky purrs, you know he’s smirking, possibly even dragging his tongue across his bottom lip as he closes his eyes to imagine you under him. 

    You’re at a loss for words, feeling your panties grow damp, core aching and you’re going to have to touch yourself soon. But that’s all part of Bucky’s plan, you think. 

    “Here I am, all alone, with my hand wrapped ‘round my cock,” he whispers, but you can hear him stroking himself. 

    “And all I can think ‘bout is that way your tight little pussy grips me and milks my fuckin’ dick, baby.” Bucky was always so good with his words, knowing exactly what to say to make you melt. 

    And it was working, because you were a squirming mess in his bed. 

    “Well,” you could tell he was smirking by his tone, “what’re ya waitin’ for, Sweets. Go on, touch yourself. I wanna hear you work your clit.” 

    Your hand flew under your panties, being given the permission only made it sweeter as your fingers came in contact with your soaking folds. The sensitive bundle of nerves needed desperate attention as you slowly circled it. 

    “Good girl, that’s my girl.” Bucky praised, continuing to work himself. 

    “God,” he hissed, “can’t wait to have you all to myself again. Bury myself deep, maybe even have you sit on my cock as you beg me to do somethin’.” 

    You worked yourself a little faster, applying some more pressure as you let out a whine at his words. 

    “Add two fingers, Sweets. I know how much you love bein’ stretched,” Bucky chuckled deeply, “been thinkin’ of gettin’ you a mould of my fuckin’ dick for when ‘m not home.” 

    Oh my God. Oh my God that shouldn’t be so fucking hot so why does it make your walls flutter and breathing uneven as you have to stop yourself from actually fucking cumming. 

    He chuckles again, “yeah, you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” 

    You can’t verbally respond, too focused on the tight coil in your abdomen that’s ready to snap. 

    “I know you’re close, can hear it in how fuckin’ desperate you sound,” he pants, “so why don’t you make a mess all over my clean sheets.” 

    You gasp, how did he know, but you don’t get to dwell on it for much longer than a moment because your orgasm rips through you and leaves you panting Bucky’s name. 

    Both of your breaths are uneven and ragged through the phone’s speakers, bed springs creaking on Bucky’s side as he hums. 

    “If only you could see the miss I made for you, Sweets,” you shuddered at his words, closing your eyes to relish in the moment. 

    “Now get some sleep, okay? I’ll see you tomorrow.” His tone has changed, entirely sweet and caring as you grab the phone to bring him closer to you. 

    “Okay,” you reply, another lick of silence before you hear Bucky going to end the call but you stop him. 

    “I love you, Bucky.” You quickly blubber out and it feels good to finally say those words because there’s no more denying how you really feel about him. 

    “I love you too, Sweets.” 

    It’s a bittersweet ending to the phone call, thoughts and emotions running wild as you’re forced to remind yourself that Bucky has a lot of explaining to do. 

[imaginedreamwrite]

I just had to open one of those cinnamon roll cardboard containers, the ones that make a loud pop, and damn near cried because of some flashback... And that made my mind go 'how would alphas Steve and Bucky react if their Omega just cried from opening something loud'

... do I use thoughts of fictional characters like that to help cope with flashbacks and panic attacks? Yes. Is it healthy? No, but it gives me great ideas sometimes.

I get it, I totally do. I hate those pop tubes so much, I can never do it. They’re the worst!

They’d gotten an alert from the AI that Tony had installed in their home, the AI had informed them that their omega had a moment of heightened panic. However the AI hadn’t told them what had caused the panic and they were momentarily left in the dark as they made their way back to you.

Before they had even gotten home they knew you would be hiding in one of your safe places, either your nest in your shared room or one of the coves you’d formed in the house. Regardless of where you had been, every room and every cove you could hide in was designed for your comfort and their size.

“Good afternoon, Sergeant Barnes.” The AI greet Bucky as he stepped through the door, an indicator hologram hovering before his eyes.

“Miss L/N is in the east bedroom.” The AI recalled the information to Bucky while Steve had slipped past him to enter the house.

“What scared her?” Steve questioned without expecting a response, and walked slowly into the kitchen.

Upon arriving he had seen and studied the minute mess left behind from the note scrawled in your handwriting relating a recipe you’d taken from Wanda, to the partially opened pressure pack of pre-made pastry base. It was sitting out, haphazardly discarded as a series of clues that had alluded to your sudden departure.

“I think I know.” Steve had spoken softly, lifting the discarded ingredients before him.

“PTSD,” Bucky frowned and furrowed his brow, “the popping sound must’ve reminded her of her previous reality.”

“She said they put omegas in a kind of boarding school and locked them in their rooms by 9 at the latest. Their food came pre-packaged to avoid tampering, the sound of the doors opening and shutting would sound like a big burst of air being shot through a pressurized tube.”

“She had no idea it would set her off.” Bucky had frowned and kicked off his shoes, not caring where they landed, and then he started to head toward the stairs.

“All this for what?” Bucky’s voice was clipped, his anger rising. “All that control, for the better good?”

“I’d rather not have omegas at all, if that’s the cost.” Steve agreed and followed Bucky, slowly approaching the place you were hiding in.

“There’s even more we don’t know.” Bucky had slowly pushed the door open, hissing sharply at the constant surge of fear that was radiating from you. “Steve-“

“I’m calling Nat & Tony, we’re taking some time off.” Steve had backed out of the room and dug for his phone in his pocket then dialled Tony’s number and held it to his ear.

“Hey sweet girl…” Steve heard Bucky’s voice and slowly closed the door behind him while listening to the sound of the phone ringing in his ear.

[siconetribal]

The Science of Worth (Part 2)

Tags: @vbecker10

Pairing: Loki x Y/N

Warning: Fluff and humor

Author Note: I hope you enjoy this next part!

As the great Shakespearean character Malvolio once said, “Be not afraid of greatness: some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon 'em…”. Though the premise of the scene was comedic and meant to show the folly in his ambitious and pretentious egotism, Eva felt as if she followed ridiculous instructions that now led her to the grandiose punchline. The punchline, you ask? Her standing before a glass wall so clear it was hard to even tell there was anything there of a building that had a very famous symbol on its side. The large A that was known worldwide…and even on an intergalactic level.

Is this really where I’m supposed to be meeting him?! There has to be a mistake! Shoving her hand into one of the back pockets of her jeans, she pulled out the folded sheet of paper that held enviably elegant handwriting penciled across it. Unlocking her phone in her other hand, she cross-checked the address she typed into her maps software and the accuracy of her GPS location. There was no denying it, the address she was sent to was none other than the Avengers compound. “This has to be some sort of joke, right? A meticulous and detailed prank?” She muttered under her breath, looking up at the pristine glass she so skillfully walked into moments ago. She rubbed her forehead as the memory of the pain resurfaced. I’m pretty sure that’s on camera somewhere…but none of that explains why I’m even here! She pursed her lips to one side and tried to think over the last couple of weeks.

Thor had come to the tiny apartment more frequently over the past two weeks than usual. He had been in contact with Tony Stark, Nick Fury, and Steve Rogers discussing the gravity of the situation that came to pass without any of them realizing. Initially, Stark and Fury were staunchly against the addition of Eva and due to the various missions that were underway the discussion was tabled for some time.

After two weeks of waiting, the four sat in one of the conference rooms at the compound. He insisted the rest of the Avengers need not be troubled with this issue, hoping to speed up the process and reduce the risk of others voting against him. The one Avenger he knew would be on his side was Captain America. His sense of duty and justice were one of the many great qualities that would work in his favor.

“Listen, Thor, I don’t know who things work up in Asgard, but this isn’t some charity place where we pick up strays from the street. She’s human, she’s an American, she can get an apartment if she needs some place to live.” Tony bluntly spoke, popping a blueberry in his mouth as he walked around the room.

“If the situation were different, I would wholeheartedly agree with you, Stark. However, I am not asking we just take in anyone. She is someone we must assist.” Thor insisted.

“You keep saying that, and yet I don’t exactly see why. Enlighten us,” Fury leaned back into his seat with his eye trained on the god of thunder. “Why is this person any more important than the rest?”

“Excellent point, why do we need to babysit some snotty college brat?” Tony snapped his fingers and pointed at Fury. “Tell us all about it, Goldilocks.”

“As I have said, she is now in danger because of our poor insight.” The Asgardian prince rolled his at his comrade’s incessant need to use such ridiculous nicknames. “When my brother was fully cleansed from the corruption of the Mind Stone, I came to you all asking for asylum on his behalf. He is no longer allowed back on Asgard unless he wishes to be locked away in our dungeons once again. The consensus was that he should reside within reasonable distance from our compound and be monitored by me because there was still uncertainty of his character. I found a place for him to stay from this fascinating site of Craig’s that listed many things. The fees of his living were approved by S.H.I.E.L.D. and I was tasked with routine visits to make sure he was not doing anything underhanded in secret. As you saw, he has proven to be completely free of the Mind Stone and has been living silently within the city.”

“Yeah, and now we want to have him work as part of the Avengers. I don’t see the issue.” Tony raised an eyebrow in question as to why Thor needed to repeat all this known information.

“Yes, he has to leave the apartment he lives in to come here. However, he does not reside alone in that place. Eva lives with him and she was the one who asked Craig for his assistance in finding someone to share the financial burden of housing.” He continued to explain, undaunted by Tony’s mannerisms. “As we all and many others know, Loki is my brother.” He paused, looking at Fury, Tony, and Steve. “I am a known member of the Avengers.” He paused again and looked at each of the men in the room. “I have been seen coming and going from there on many occasions. We have many enemies who are not above using whatever means necessary to try to get at us…including abducting and harming someone they think is important to us.”

“Which now means she has a big target on her back, telling them to try to use her to get to us.” Steve sighed, tapping his fingers against the glass table. “This is trouble. We can’t just leave her now that we’ve given this impression that she’s someone important to us.”

“Dammit, I knew that was going to come and bite me in the ass later! I shouldn’t have said yes, and I shouldn’t have told you about Craig’s list.” Tony clicked his tongue and scoffed in annoyance, turning his back to the group as he paced a little faster.

“Looks like we’ve gotten her in a whole heap of trouble.” Fury muttered, frowning at the logic that was laid out before him. “She’s not some spy?”

“No, she’s not some spy.” Thor quickly assured him. “In fact, she would be more useful to us because she is very capable of controlling my brother! I was certainly surprised to see just how well she is on many occasions! Also, he has been unwilling to move and has given little on the reasoning of why. I’m very certain it is because he has come to like Eva and feels responsible for her safety.”

“So what, she’s his pet?”

“Or his friend. I doubt it’s that unreasonable of an opinion, Tony.” Steve interjected and Tony rolled his eyes.

“Well, whatever his weird fantasies are, she’s now our problem. I guess he can bring his pet with him.” He reluctantly agreed, Fury nodding his head in agreement.

“We’re now responsible, but that doesn’t mean she can just do whatever she pleases. If she makes trouble, she’s out, understood?” He made sure to make eye contact with all three of the men in the room. “I’m not playing games and this isn’t some babysitting service. Understood,” he made sure they all responded to him before standing up from his seat. “Good, then you can tell Loki she’s allowed to move in here with him. Meeting adjourned.” He walked out of the room and soon the rest of them followed after. Thor, elated at how the tides changed to his favor, ran to give Loki the good news. Sadly, Y/N was not present at the time due to her work, so he left it to Loki to inform her of the upcoming changes. Which now led to the current predicament of said Midgardian who knew nothing of what was going on, all thanks to a certain deity with a penchant for mischief.

She paced back and forth to and from the front door, the doors opening with an audible whoosh of air when she mustered up the courage to step into the sensor, only to doubt and turn away to leave. Chewing on her lower lip, she tugged at her clothes and hair to help expel the excess energy that currently bubbled up inside her. Did she dare enter the Avenger’s Compound? What business did she even have here? Wait, she topped mid-step, her right foot held in the air. I’m currently living with Loki, the brother of Thor, an avenger. I was suddenly given this address and told to come here. Does that mean something happened? To Thor? Was this for Loki? No, it had my name on it. Did something happen to Loki?! She turned as a surge of worry took over her body, she walked straight into the cool lobby.

The glass doors silently slid closed behind her while her sneakers squeaked against the large polished tiled floors. The entire building gave state-of-the-art modern vibes with some minimalism from the chrome, white, and silver color scheme to the lighting that was part of the back wall behind the long reception desk. There were two people stationed at the front, standing and staring at her.

“Well, I’m certainly not in Kansas anymore.” She muttered the words aloud, trying to calm her nerves to build up the courage to try to find out what or who led her here.

“Kansas, why would you think you’re in Kansas?” A familiar voice caught her attention and she quickly turned towards the speaker.

[peachbear88]

The Greatest Love Story

A/N: Inspired by this lovely image I saw. I'm making this into a high school angst AU that takes place in like the 1900's. For the record, I know Steve isn't a bad person but this is an AU and I need one of those... You know, guys for this story so.... Yeah! Sorry! BTW, the second poem is not written by me, it's written by Elizabeth Barrett Browning and I stole some quotes from Shakespeare.

Warnings: Angst, homophobia, swearing, character death.

Word Count: 3.2k

Pairing: Yelena Belova x Reader

----------

You scale the ancient wooden stairs of your small school. avoiding eye contact with anyone. The stares you receive from others are painfully obvious as you speed walk towards the library, seeking shelter from the judgmental glances from your peers.

"Hello dear," the kind librarian greets you as you walk past her towards your corner of the library.

You don't respond, quickly ducking behind the massive shelves, hoping to spend as much time as possible in your safe space before the classes start. Placing back your old books, you scan the shelves, until a particular title catches your eye.

"Love Poems by Women?" You murmur, flipping through the worn pages.

----------

A giant dusty book lands on the librarian's desk, making her look up.

"May I take this out?" You ask, your tone emotionless, cold yet tentative. The librarian smiles gently at you handing you back the book.

"Of course dear. Happy reading." You give her a small, thankful smile before dashing out of the library door. The halls are partially empty, save for the kids that skip class, hanging around in the hallways and dark alleys after school.

You duck your head, avoiding eye contact as you pass the group leaning against the lockers, most importantly, the hazel eyed beauty that could snap your neck in half, Yelena Belova.

"Hey!" Your head snaps up. Big mistake. You lock eyes with the famed blonde and you drop your head immediately, a faint blush creeping up your cheeks.

"Y-Yes?"

"Look at me when I'm talking to you." She snaps. You peek at her from the corner of your eye, her sleek dress pants catching your eye.

"Interesting outfit choice," you note before you can stop yourself.

"What did you say?" She demands and you gulp, backing away.

"N-nothing." She slowly steps towards you, backing you into the lockers.

"Get to class. And don't ever let me see you again идиот (idiot)." You hurry down the hall towards your classroom, tripping in the process as you repeatedly look over your shoulder, watching as Yelena turns back to her friend group.

---------

"She was cute," Natasha points out as Yelena reclaims her spot leaning against the lockers. "Why do you feel the need to tease her so relentlessly?" Yelena rolls her eyes, grabbing the flask of vodka back from her sister.

"She's annoying. I don't like her." Natasha smirks.

"Sure. Whatever you say."

---------

You let out a sigh of relief when the bell rings.

Your classmates flood out of the classroom, jostling each other aside in their rush to get home. You quickly sprint out the door, eager to get home, safe and sound when a hand grabs you by the arm and pulls you into a dark alley behind the school.

"Hello there girly..." A deep voice says. You gulp. The boy steps into the light to reveal Steve Rogers. One of those people that take pride in hurting others, a bully, your tormenter.

"W-what do you want?" He smirks, stepping closer to you.

"Well, a little birdie told me that someone had an encounter with a specific blonde this morning." You flinch when he grabs you by the throat, pinning you to the wall. "You wouldn't happen to be... I don't know, one of those dykes would you?" Your eyes widen and you shake your head vigorously as he laughs. "Oh man," he sputters, choking through his laughter. "Wait till the school gets ahold of this-"

He doesn't get to finish his sentence because a fist connects with his face, sending him reeling backwards.

"What the-" A strong hand wraps around his throat, pushing him backwards till his back connects with the wall.

"Listen to me you маленькое дерьмо (little shit), if you ever even think about coming near her again, I will sneak into your house at night, gut you like the fish you are and paint the school with them." Yelena warns in a surprisingly calm voice. Steve's eyes widen and he nods his head frantically until she lets go.

"Crazy bitch!" He spits, backing away quickly. You shuffle your feet, looking down at the ground as she watches him run.

"T-thank you." You mutter, not daring to look her in the eye. She sighs.

"This better not become a daily thing Y/L/N." You nod feebly. "Get out of here." You quickly pick your bag back up and sprint out of the alley, leaving Yelena by herself,

---------

"I'm home mom!"

"Welcome home sweetie!" Your mom pokes her head out of the living room.

"How's your book going?"

"As great as a woman writing a book can be." She chuckles forcibly. There's an awkward silence before she continues. "Your father came by today." She pauses as you swallow, feeling like something lodged itself in your throat.

"And what did he want?" She frowns at your tone.

"Sweetie, I know you don't like him but he's still your fa-"

"I don't have a dad," you growl, picking up your bag. "My dad died when he chose to abandon us." She watches as you climb up the stairs, sighing and rubbing her temple.

---------

You flop onto your bed, dropping the thick dusty buck onto the bed. You spend the rest of the afternoon reading through the poems until your mom calls you down for dinner.

It's an awkward dinner, quiet, only the sounds of dishes, chewing and utensils filling the room.

"I'm going to bed." You say after washing the dishes, not bothering to wait for a response.

That night, you lay in bed, staring at the ceiling of your room.

"Love poems by women." You mutter, an idea popping into your head. You quickly sit up, flicking on your lamp and pulling out the book and a pen.

----------

"Good morning dear," the librarian greets you like she does every morning.

"I'd like to return this book." You reply coldly, passing her the book once again. She smiles gently at you.

"I hope you enjoyed your reading." She says while passing you, returning the book to its original shelf.

-----------

"Hello hon, can I help you with anything?" The librarian asks the dirty-blonde haired girl.

"No, thank you." The girl sends the librarian a tight lipped smile before returning her attention to the shelves. A ripped leather cover catches her attention. Love Poems by Women. She smiles, pulling the book from the shelf. Flipping open to the title page, a neat cursive catches her eyes.

Love flows between beings Gift from the gods Curse from the demons The missing part of every person Destined to be opposites Love is flexible Yet some seek to objectify love Love is not for the weak willed. - Aristophanes

The blonde haired girl hums, pulling a pen from her jacket's pocket and discreetly writing in the book, right next to the poem.

------------

Terrible.

That's the only way to describe your day. You received your essay back, ecstatic to see that you had received an A. Steve on the other hand had absolutely flunked. Instead of dedicating his time to studying, he decided to beat you up as a way of taking out his frustration.

You ended up limping out of the women's toilet, your leg flaring up whenever you moved, tears threatening to fall from your eyes.

"Hi sweetcheeks," the librarian murmurs, her eyes trailing down your injured leg.

"'Ello." You quickly duck behind the shelves, pulling out the book you were looking for. Your brows scrunch together in confusion as you see a messier scrawl next to your handwriting.

Reality hits hard

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways. I love thee to the depth and breadth and height My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight For the ends of being and ideal grace. I love thee to the level of every day's Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light. I love thee freely, as men strive for right. I love thee purely, as they turn from praise. I love thee with the passion put to use In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith. I love thee with a love I seemed to lose With my lost saints. I love thee with the breath, Smiles, tears, of all my life; and, if God choose, I shall but love thee better after death.

- Orpheus

You smile letting a light laugh slip from your lips. A sweet titter revealing the little girl underneath your cold, traumatized exterior.

Quickly, you grab your pen from your pocket and begin scribbling.

-----------

The air is knocked from your body as your back makes contact with the floor.

"Listen here dyke. I don't like you alright," Steve growls into your ear as Tony cracks his knuckles. "So here's what's going to happen: Everyday you're going to meet us here and," he pauses, cracking his neck. "Help us relive some stress." He smiles wickedly before punching you in the stomach, making you double over in pain.

Your eyes flutter shut as they deliver blow after blow 'till they finally stop. You tentatively open your eyes to see Yelena tackling Steve to the ground as Tony stares at them, eyes wide.

"I. Told. You. To. Leave. Her. Alone!" She screams, pummeling Steve with her fists. He groans, unmoving. You watch in terror as Tony picks up a trash can lid, sneaking up behind her as she punches Steve in the face.

"Watch out!" You scream, taking Tony as well yourself by surprise. She looks up to see you slamming into Tony sending him flying into the nearby wall of the alley.

He crumples, unconscious.

"Are you okay?" You mumble, limping towards Yelena, who's clutching a blood gash on her arm.

"'M fine,' she grits out. You shake your head, grabbing her wrist. She flinches but doesn't push you away.

"You're not okay. Let me help you." You plead. She stays silent and you quickly take her silence as a yes, leading her to the front steps of your home. You rummage through your back pack, finding a large wrap of bandages that you kept after your daily beating from Rogers and his friends.

She winces as you wrap her wound swiftly.

"Gentle!" She growls and you stare back at her defiantly.

"Well maybe if you would stop moving, it'd hurt less!" You retort and she shuts up, staring off into the distance. You dab the cut with a small bit of alcohol before wrapping the bandage all around her arm.

"Thank you." She whispers, giving you a small smile. Reaching out, she gently tucks a strand of hair behind your ear as you flinch back. You quickly, shovel the bandages and medicinal alcohol back into your pack, not noticing the hurt look on her face.

"No problem. The least I could do since you saved me." You reply bluntly, swinging the bag over your shoulder and slipping through the door.

"Wait-" She sighs as the door slams shut in front of her.

You exhale, leaning against the door as you try to catch your breath.

-----------

Yelena sighs exasperatedly, tugging at the collar of her dress shirt.

"What's wrong little sis?" Natasha smirks, plopping down next to her.

"I got hurt and Y/N patched me up." Natasha jumps up, eyes wide.

"You stained your new shirt?" She groans shaking Yelena violently. "God I'm going to kill you!" Yelena grabs her sister, stopping her.

"You're missing the point!"

"Oh yeah? And what's that?" Nat challenges, flopping back down on to the couch.

"She patched me up!" Nat's eyes widen.

"Oh. Oh." She inches closer to her sister, nudging her playfully, much to Yelena's dislike. "So are y'all like," she winks at her sister insinuatingly. "A thing?" Yelena scrunches her brows in confusion.

"A thing?" Nat rolls her eyes, sidling closer to her.

"Yes. A thing. An item? Lovers?" She shrugs, missing the way Yelena blushes.

"In her dreams," Yelena snorts, leaning back into the couch.

"If you say so..."

-----------

"Morning pumpkin!" The librarian chirps.

The blonde girl ignores her, breezing past her towards the the shelves at the very back, peeking over her shoulder quickly before pulling an old, leather bound book from the shelf.

She flips the leather cover aside to reveal the title page. Next to her messy, distorted scrawl was a neat, distinctive cursive once again.

Speak low if you speak love

- Aristophanes

She smiles gently, chuckling as she shakes her head.

"Shakespeare of all people," she whispers, her accent thickening. Pulling a forgotten pen from the shelves, she begins writing,

-----------

The highlight of your day became going to the library and reading the little messages scrawled in between the margins of the book by Orpheus. Like:

If music be the food of love, play on

Or

Her passions are made of nothing but the finest part of pure love.

They made you smile on a daily basis, sometimes even eliciting a rare light laugh.

"Good morning sweetpea." The librarian greets you, not expecting a response. To her surprise and yours, you muster a small smile and a wave.

"Hello." You can feel the librarians shocked eyes following you as you round the bookshelf corner to find Steve, eyes wide, mouth open in shock as he stares down at something in his hands.

Your heart plummets. A book with a soft leather cover, yellowed pages. The book of poems.

You lunge for it but he step sides you swiftly, raising the book above his head.

"Speak low if you speak of love huh? I'm not surprised you know Shakespeare, you're such a nerd." He sneers, waving the book above his head.

"I-I don't know what you're talking about." You stutter, backing up. He grabs you by the collar of your shirt, lifting you into the air.

"Don't fuck with me!" He growls, dropping the book and kicking it to the side. "Who's Orpheus?"

"G-Greek hero. Musician." You stutter and he slaps you, hard. You can feel your cheek swelling under his fiery gaze.

"Don't even try me. Who. Is. Orpheus?"

"I don't know, I swear!" You mutter, wincing when you accidentally bite your cheek.

He drops you, watching as you scramble to your feet, backing away.

"This isn't over you little shit. I'll be back for you," he warns, giving your book one last kick for good measure before storming out of the library with Tony and Bucky on his heels.

You fall to your knees, silently sobbing as you crawl over too the book, dusting it off and hugging it to your chest.

Yelena sighs, her heart breaking as she watches you curl around the book protectively, lying on the floor.

-----------

"Where are you going?"

Yelena turns to find Nat, leaning against the school stairwell doorway, watching her.

"Just up to the roof. Need some fresh air," she lies, avoiding Nat's gaze. Nat lifts Yelena's chin up, staring into her eyes, boring into her very soul. Yelena squirms under her gaze until she finally lets go.

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"Okay." She smiles sadly at her little sister. "Just-" Her voice cracks as she pats her sister's shoulder. "Don't do anything stupid."

"Don't worry. I won't." She gives Nat a brief hug before hiking her pants up and starting up the stairs.

-----------

"Ah, well look who decided to join the party!" You look up from the ground to see Yelena, your eyes clouded with pain.

"No..." You croak but Steve pays no attention to you.

"Come to save your love Yelena?" He sneers, dropping you to the ground. "Or should I say... Orpheus?" Your eyes widen as you watch him advance towards her, pushing her closer to the edge of the roof.

"I don't know what you're talking about." She deadpans and Steve chuckles.

"Sure. If you won't admit, I'll just have to settle for destroying you from the inside out instead." He grabs her by the arm. "I haven't forgotten what you did to me." He points at a long thin scar along his jawline.

You watch as Tony sneaks up from behind Yelena, striking her with a metal bar. She crumples, falling to her knees.

"Hold her." Steve directs and Bucky dutifully grabs you by the arms. He holds Yelena's chin in between his thumb and forefinger, forcing her to look at him. "Now you watch as I destroy the one thing you love the most." Tony tosses his the metal bar and Steve prepares himself before swinging it like a baseball bat.

There's a sickening crunch followed by your scream as the bar makes contact with your ribs.

"Stop!" She struggles, her eyes never leaving your broken body as he hits you over and over again. "Please! Leave her alone!"

Steve smiles evilly, locking eyes with her before swinging the bat again. Another scream. Blood trickles down your face from your nose.

"Is that right? Did the famous Yelena Belova just beg me?" He smiles cruelly before pushing you down on your back, his foot on your chest. You scream as he increases the pressure, your broken ribs digging into your lungs.

Yelena screams, kicking Tony's legs out from under him before punching Steve in the jaw. She grabs the iron bar before it hits the ground, clobbering Bucky in the stomach before kicking Steve in the stomach.

"ты сука (you bitch)!" She steps on his face swiftly, taking satisfaction in the groan of pain he emits before turning to you, gently cradling your face.

"Wow... That was pretty badass," you mumble and she laughs, tearing up. You reach out, wiping the tears from her eyes. "Don't cry." She frowns.

"I'm not crying."

"You are too." You smile, wincing in pain. "I didn't know you knew Shakespeare."

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have let this happen." You frown, caressing her face, forcing her to look at you.

"Hey, hey. It's fine. Don't worry. I'll be fine." You attempt to smile reassuringly but it comes out as more of a grimace. "Listen, if I don't make it-"

"Don't say that! You can't leave me!"

"Shush, listen you thickheaded poet. If I don't make it, go back to the book." You instruct her. She frowns but you can her off. "Promise me."

"But-"

"Promise me."

"I promise..."

"Good." You smile at her, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead, your eyesight blurring. "Wait for me okay?" Your eyes flutter shut.

"No! No Y/N! Come back!" She shakes you roughly, sobbing when you don't respond.

----------

Yelena watches as your body is carted off under a white sheet. Nat stands to the side, watching as her sister stares off into the distance, all life drained from her body.

Go back to the book.

She stands, slowly trailing towards the library, her eyes bloodshot, cheeks caked with dry tears.

"Hi dear," the librarian greets her, discreetly wiping her eyes with a handkerchief. "What a shame. She was a lovely girl."

"She really was the best." Yelena agrees quietly, giving the librarian a small, comforting pat on the back before moving to the back of the library where she finds the book, lying on the floor.

Yelena,

I believe that we are the greatest love poem ever written. I love you always,

Y/N

A choked sob escapes her lips as she stares at the page. You knew. You knew the whole time and you didn't even say anything. A pair of soft arms wrap around Yelena's stomach as she lets go of the dam, her cries echoing throughout the library.

"I'm sorry..."

I'm sorry...

----------

Taglist: @username23345 @musicinourlips @gingerbreadcookieforlife @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @trikruismybitch @ima-gi--na-tion @nicole-rayleigh-hot @olsensnpm @peabrain112

[lilliagradiewrites]

go get her, kid. (peter parker)

Summary: Peter Parker is hopelessly in love with Tony Starks’ teenage daughter, and Stark encourages him to shoot his shot.

WC: 7.4k (holy shit)

Warnings: Bad language, , really nothing else. A lot of cute peter and a painful amount fluff. A tiny bit of angst too.

A/N: I found myself watching Tom Holland interview clips today and I just couldn’t help myself. Here we are: my first peter parker/ spiderman one shot! I have some Harry and Jj pieces in the works, so keep eyes out for that!

LET’S DO IT!!!

--------

Peter  found himself in this position far too often. Staring at you shamelessly while you worked away at whatever was on your desk, usually a school assignment or some tech project. His crush had been going on for quite some time, but it was getting more and more difficult to hide.

You and Peter had been best friends ever since your dad first recruited him. Something clicked between the two of you, causing an instant friendship. As time went on, you grew closer and closer to the superhero, and he quickly became your best friend. You began surrounding yourself with his friends without even realizing it, becoming close with Ned and MJ almost instantly. They were great people, and you loved being around them, but something about Peter was just different. Your energies matched perfectly for some reason. He got your humour, liked the same things as you, plus he was a great conversationalist and an even better listener. Some of your favorite memories were made with Peter.

Despite knowing practically everything about the boy, you were completely oblivious about his huge crush on you. Ned was the only person who truly knew, though many other people had their suspicions. The Avengers had an idea about it, considering you were what he talked about 90 percent of the time. MJ could tell because of the way he looked at you. When he looked your way, his pupils enlarged, his cheeks went pink, and the look on his face was entirely lovey-dovey. It was so obvious just in the way he gazed at you when you spoke.

He was looking at you in that way now, though you weren’t aware. He was meant to be studying (it was the whole reason he came over to your house, or at least that’s the reason he told you), but he couldn’t bring himself to care about chemistry homework when you looked so damn beautiful. Your hair was pulled back into a low ponytail keeping it away from your face as you worked. Your hands flew across the keyboard on your laptop, typing out something Peter probably wouldn’t understand. He was smart, sure, but you were intelligent in a different way. You were insightful and observant, you got things other people couldn’t begin to process. Your brain understood things in a different capacity than most. Peter assumes you got this trait from your father, who was the exact same way.

“What’re you typing? Something for school?”

You nodded, your attention not wavering from the laptop screen. “Yeah, an assignment for AP Lit.”

“Oh, that one project you told me about? With the essay and the powerpoint?”

You nodded again. “Mhm.”

Peter furrowed his brows, moving off your bed to come stand near you at your desk in an attempt to get a better look at what you were working so eagerly on. “I thought that project wasn’t due for another month.

“It’s not. I had an idea for the essay, and I figured if I get started early, I have more time to edit and perfect it.”

“You’re such a perfectionist.” Peter says with a light chuckle, looking at the state of your desk. It was both chaotic and organized at the same time. Pens, highlighters, pieces of paper, a book with annotations scribbled in the margins, notebooks with neat class notes printed inside of them in your pretty handwriting. They were all scattered about the surface, but Peter knew you well enough to know that there was always a method to your madness. As you observed longer, he realized that all of the items were in different sections on your desk, based on categories and subjects. He smiled lightly, realizing that this messy but technically neat surface was probably a very accurate representation of what goes on in your mind.

You finished the paragraph you were typing with a flourish, a satisfied smile resting on your lips. “There. I have a basic outline done for the essay portion. Obviously, I’ll have to go back and add a little more and elaborate on the points, but the basics are there.”

Peter glanced up at your laptop screen. His eyes were met with a never ending sea of typed out words. He smiled; this was so you. Your ‘outline’ is another student's essay doubled.

“You’re gonna write more than that?”

You looked back at him, and he saw your face for the first time during the encounter. His cheeks went slightly pink at the sight of you, and he prayed that you didn’t notice.

You didn’t, or perhaps you just didn’t say anything. You continued on with the conversation without skipping a beat, and relief washed over Peter because of this.

“Of course I am.” You stated with furrowed brows, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “This is so boring and basic, and has no detail whatsoever. Anybody who reads the summary of the book online could write this. I want my teacher to know that I thoroughly read and understood the novel, you know? I don’t want to submit some surface-level shit, I want to really pick apart the undertones of and the meaning behind the story.”

Peter nods, pretending to understand what you meant. He’d barely been paying attention to the words you were saying, too encapsulated with your beautiful eyes to do so. You turned back around towards your work, causing your best friend to snap out of his trance-like state.

“Do you wanna watch a movie or something? I’m bored.”

You had now picked up a pencil and a highlighter, working on the chemistry notes he was supposed to be taking. “Don’t you have work to do, Pete?”

“...No.”

You paused your writing to gaze at him skeptically.

“So you did your book report for english?”

“Yes.”

“Your worksheets for pre-calc?”

“Mhm.”

“You read the assigned chapters for Pschycology and finished the quiz you had to take on them?”

A nod was your only answer.

“What about chem? We have notes, essay questions, assigned reading, and a formulas worksheet due next tuesday. Have you done all of that?”

Peter hesitated for a moment. “Yes, I have.” It was a clear lie. “Can we watch a movie now?”

“There’s no way you did all of that. Go finish your work, and then we can watch a movie.”

A groan escapes Peters lips as he turns, resting against your desk. “But that’ll take forever. Your dad kicks me out at 11:00. We’ll never have time to watch one.” He whines.

You smile slightly, unable to fight it. Not replying to your friend, you spin around in your chair, raising your voice slightly, “FRIDAY, connect to dad please.”, the command directed to nowhere in particular.

“Connecting to Mr. Stark.” The familiar robotic voice echoes throughout your room.

“What’s up, Y/N/N?”

“Hey, Dad? Can Peter stay a bit later tonight?”

“Why?”  Your dad’s voice replies through a hidden speaker, his tone almost accusatory.

“Because he wants to watch a movie but I won’t let him until we’re done with homework. We won’t have enough time to finish the movie if he leaves at normal curfew? Pleeeaseee, Dad?”

You can hear your father sigh. “Fine, but only because it’s not a school night and I’m feeling generous. He’s gotta be gone by one though, no exceptions.”

Both of you smiled widely, and you erupted in cheers. “Thanks, Dad!”

“Kid, be ready for training at eight. A later curfew doesn’t mean an exception from your early morning saturday sessions.” The statement was directed at Peter, who nodded, despite your father not being able to see him.

“Got it, Mr. Stark.”

“FRIDAY, disconnect.” You heard Tony’s voice from the other side.

“Disconnected.” The sound of the AI confirming the command filled your room, and the space fell into a brief silence once again.

You spun in your chair, turning to face Peter with a smug smile on your face. “There, now we can get our work done, and watch a movie. Satisfied?”

Peter nodded, giving a roll of his eyes and heading back over to his workspace on your bed, plopping down and continuing his assignments.

An hour and half later, Peter gave a heavy sigh, finally closing his textbook with a smile. “All done!” he announced proudly.

“With everything?”

“Yes, everything.”

You closed your notebook you’d been working in, standing up. “Great. I’ve been done for half an hour, I’ve been working on future assignments while I waited for you to finish up. Ready to watch that movie?”

Peter nodded excitedly. He loved watching movies with you, because you always cuddled up close to him on your bed while you watched. Peter loved being in close proximity to you, even though it made him a little nervous.

“What do you wanna watch?” He asked, beginning to clear his things off your bed.

“I don’t know. We can discuss while we go make popcorn.”

Peter’s eyes lit up; he loved popcorn.

“Okay!” He tossed the rest of his things in his school bag, zipping it up quickly and dropping it in the corner of your room. “Lets go!”

You chuckled at his childlike behavior, following him out of your bedroom door towards your kitchen. The entire journey down the stairs, down the hall, and to the kitchen was filled with Peter going on and on about movies he wanted to see.

You grabbed the microwave popcorn from the pantry, unwrapping it and tossing it in, starting up the machine.

You continued to listen to Peter as soft popping sounds filled your kitchen.

“Oh, you guys have Disney plus, right? What if we watched that new star wars show thingy? The mandalorian?”

You smiled at this statement. Though you didn’t see the boy in any way but a friend (at least that’s what you told yourself), you found Peter’s Star Wars obsession very cute.

“I mean, I would watch that, but I don’t think I’d understand it.”

Peter’s brows furrowed. “Why not?”

“Because I’ve never seen the movies.”

You watched in amusement as Peter’s jaw dropped, his eyes widening in shock. “You’ve NEVER seen the Star Wars movies? Are you kidding me, Y/N?”  

You laughed at his reaction, moving to fetch the fully popped popcorn from the microwave and transfer it into a bowl. “No, I’m not kidding. I’ve been meaning to watch them forever, but I guess I never got around to it.”

“I can’t believe this!” Peter exclaims in disbelief. “We’ve been friends for a year and a half now, and you’ve never seen the Star Wars movies? This is insane! I talk about them so much… did you just never understand what I was talking about?”

You shook your head, chuckling. “Nope, I never have. I kinda just let you talk about it, because I planned on watching the movies. I figured I’d understand what you meant when I watched them.”

“Holy shit… we’re watching the first one tonight, Y/N. No arguments, we’re doing it.”

You grabbed the now prepared bowl of popcorn, smiling at your friend. “Alright, let’s do it.”

You headed back up the stairs, the sound of your footsteps accompanied with the sound of Peter murmuring in disbelief as you made your way to your room.

Once the two of you arrived at your destination, you closed the door, placing the bowl of popcorn on your still cluttered desk.

Peter climbed into your bed, while you rummaged through your drawers in search of comfy clothes. “I’m gonna change into pj’s before we start, i want to be comfy.”

Peter nodded. “FRIDAY, put Star Wars: The Phantom Menace on Y/N’s TV.” He spoke out in a slightly raised voice. The movie appeared on your screen, waiting to be started as you changed.

A few moments later, you emerged from your bathroom, now wearing a pair of Nike shorts and a slightly oversized t-shirt.

“Y/N, this is about to change your li-” Peter’s voice trailed off as he looked at you. The oversized shirt you were wearing… was his.

He choked on the piece of popcorn he’d been eating. “I-is that my shirt?”

You looked down on what you were wearing, realizing that it was, in fact, Peter's. “Oh shit. Yeah, sorry. You left it at the lab once, dad gave it to me to give to you, and I guess it just got mixed in with my clothes. I’ll wash it and give it back.

Peter shook his head, coughing again. “No, it’s okay. You can keep it. It looks better on you anyway.” his cheeks went pink as he realized what had just left his mouth. He hadn’t meant to say the last part.

Your cheeks went even pinker at the compliment, which you couldn’t deny made your stomach flutter a little bit. “Okay, thanks.” You smiled at your friend, climbing into the bed beside him. You cuddled in close to him, probably closer than need be, but Peter didn’t seem to mind.

“FRIDAY, start the movie.”

---

A few hours later, the credits were rolling, and Peter was red in the face. You had fallen asleep halfway through the movie, and had moved even closer to him in your slumber. You were now full-on cuddling the boy, and he had no idea what to do. Your leg was moved over his, your head lay on his chest. One arm thrown around his waist. He liked having you this close, but his stomach was in a constant state of butterflies, and he was worried that the sound of his heart beating loudly in his chest would wake you.

He didn’t know what time it was, but it must’ve been close to one, because a knock sounded from the other side of your bedroom door.

Without waiting for an answer, Tony entered the room. “Alright, kids, it’s almost curfew, time to wrap it up…”

His eyes landed on you and Peter, cuddled up in your bed.

“Kid, what the hell is going on here?”

“Mr. Stark! Um, Y/N fell asleep while we were watching the movie and she kinda… I don’t know.. Ended up like this? Nothing’s going on, I swear, it’s just… I didn’t want to wake her up…”

Peter’s face was the color of a tomato at this point. Stark still had his suspicions about the boy’s intentions, but had a feeling that Peter was telling the truth. “Alright, then. You’d better get your ass home and get some sleep. Like I said, you don’t get a free pass from training because you were cuddling with my daughter till one am.”

Peter’s eyes went wide. “No, Mr. Stark, I- We weren’t… I Wasn’t…”

Stark chuckled at the boy’s flustered state. “I’m screwing with you, Kid. Now get the hell out of my house. I’ll see you at 8 AM sharp at the compound”

Peter nodded frantically. “Yes, sir. 8 AM. Got it.”

Tony turned and left without another word, leaving Peter slightly panicked. Did Mr. Stark think that something was going on between him and Y/N? Would he be mad if there was? Peter didn’t know what to think, but he knew that he should probably leave before Tony decided to come back.

Peter climbed carefully out from underneath Y/N, setting her head gently on her pillow. He tried his very best not to wake her as he moved out of the bed.

“Goodnight, Y/N. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay? Love you lots.” Peter whispered to his ‘best friend’, planting a sweet kiss on her forehead. With that, he slid your window open, climbing out of it and swinging his way home.

Peter was completely oblivious to the fact that Tony had been standing quietly outside your door when Peter said his goodbyes, and Tony saw the entire encounter. The ‘goodnight’, the ‘i love you’, the sweet forehead kiss.

Tony had his suspicions, but that night it was confirmed: his newest recruit had it bad for his daughter.

Strangely, Tony didn’t find himself terribly angry over it.

The next morning, you awoke to the sound of your alarm blaring frustratingly loud. You groaned at the noise, picking up your phone to turn it off. The time on your phone screen read 7:00 AM. Groaning again, you pulled yourself reluctantly out of bed. As much as you hated getting up out of bed, you knew you had to if you ever wanted to complete your training. Your father had promised you that you’d get a spot on his team if you trained hard enough, and you were extremely determined. It had been your dream for years to become an Avenger, so you had been training your ass off for months to earn your spot.

This is how all of your Saturdays had begun for many weeks. An alarm going off at seven in the morning, waking you up to get ready for training at eight. It was a normal routine for you at this point, but for some reason the early wake up never got easier.

You moved about your regular morning routine, heading straight for your bathroom to brush your teeth and wash your face. Once your basic hygiene was done, you brushed through your hair, changed into some clothes (your training uniform was at the compound), grabbed your phone, and headed downstairs.

You made a beeline for the kitchen, where your father was already making his morning coffee. When he noticed your presence, he gave you a tired smile.

“Morning, Y/N/N. Sleep well?”

Still half asleep, you gave an exhausted nod. “I shouldn’t have stayed up that late last night. I’ll yell at Peter when I see him. He always manages to convince me to let him stay late.”

For some reason, your father gave a light chuckle at your words. “I bet he does, sweetheart.”

Your brows furrowed at his statement. Something about his tone of voice didn’t sit right with you. “What’s that supposed to mean?” You ask, making your way over to fix yourself a cup of coffee.

Your father smiled smugly at you, passing over the coffee pot and a mug. “Nothing, honey. Be ready in fifteen.”

Still suspicious, your eyes followed him as he placed his coffee mug in the sink and moved from the room. Why was he acting like this? Did Peter do something last night? You remembered falling asleep halfway through the movie, not being able to make it through the whole thing. Had something happened while you were sleeping?

Deciding not to let it bother you, you pushed the interaction from your mind, focusing solely on fixing your coffee. You were barely functional without it, and you knew you needed to be fully aware for training. You had to prove to your father that you could keep up with the Avengers, and that you’d be a useful asset to their team.

You downed the coffee quickly, knowing you had only a few minutes left to get ready. When your father gave you a time warning, he always meant it. And, you knew all too well, he would leave you behind if you were going to make him late.

He’d done it twice before.

Once you had finished chugging the remnants of your coffee, you placed the mug neatly in the sink, right beside where your father had left his. The drink had been an instant pick-me-up, and you automatically felt more awake. You found yourself getting more and more excited for the day ahead of you. Though waking up early on saturday mornings was a pain in the ass, you did enjoy training. You got to exercise, learn about cool technology, and screw around with your best friend. What wasn’t there to like?

Now that your best friend had crossed your mind, you pulled out your phone to text him. You sent him a message every morning, or he sent one to you. It was just a thing the two of you did. Over the past year the two of you had been close, it became some sort of routine.

Y/N/N: morning spidey. u awake?

Within moments, he was typing out a reply. He always answered your messages quickly.

Spidey: yes i am :) ready for training? I’m gonna kick ur ass in sprints today

You chuckled lightly at his response. You and Peter had always been insanely competitive towards each other, and it really jumped out during training. Unfortunately for you, Peter usually won the challenges. You always blamed it on the fact that he had more experience and super strength; he blamed it on the fact that ‘you suck’ and ‘he’s just that awesome’.

Y/N/N: u can try, but idk how that will work out. I’ve beaten u in all of the other sprints for weeks.

Spidey: doesn’t matter. I’m showing out today

Spidey: bring ur a-game, irongirl.

You smiled at the message.

Y/N/N: always do, spiderboy

He started typing back immediately, and you knew exactly why. He called you irongirl to screw with you, so you had begun calling him spiderboy to get on his nerves. It worked every time.

Spidey: Y/N!!! It’s spiderman!!!

Y/N/N: spiderboy!!! It’s nova!!!

Spidey: ugh. Ur impossible.

You grinned widely. Your playful banter with Peter has always been one of your favorite parts of the friendship.

Y/N/N: but u love me anyways :)))) see u soon

Spidey: u better be glad i do. see u soon

You reread the texts, unable to fight the smile on your face. Everytime you interact with Peter, you remember how much you truly love him. Being an avenger, and the daughter of one of the smartest and most famous men on the planet, wasn’t easy. Peter was the only one who had a taste of the madness that was your life. Having him around was having a sense of normalcy, and so were incredibly grateful for him.

Your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of your voice being called from the front door of your house.

“Y/N! Time to leave!” Without hesitation, you locked your phone, slipping it into the pocket of your sweatpants.

You hurried towards the front door, not wanting to be left behind again. When you arrived, your father was already standing there, holding the door open. You gave him a smile and a quick thank you for holding the door, then made your way out. The driver was already waiting patiently in front of your house. This was one of your dad’s six drivers.

“Morning, Bernard.” You say kindly to the driver, climbing into the back seat of the range rover. “How are you today?”

“I’m doing wonderful, Y/N. How are you?” The older man replied. You really liked Bernard, he was one of your favorite drivers. He was an older man, in his mid seventies, and you found him to be the sweetest person in the universe. Sometimes, he’d bring you your favorite candy when he used to pick you up from school, and he was always so considerate and kind.

“I’m good. Tired, but good.”

The man smiled at your reply. By this point, your dad had finished locking up the front door of the house, and he climbed in the backseat beside you.

“Good morning, Mr. Stark.” Bernard said professionally to his new passenger, and your dad nodded as a reply.

“Morning, bernard.”

The conversation ended there between the two men. Your father wasn’t a very social person with people he didn’t know, and Bernard was aware of this fact. He mostly talked to you when you were in the car, and Tony went on his phone and did Lord knows what.

“How is Dorothy doing? Is she feeling better?” You asked the man as he began pulling out of your driveway. Dorothy was Bernard’s wife, and she’d gotten sick the week prior. Given her age, Bernard was very worried about her.

Bernard smiled at your question. “Much, much better. They released her from the hospital yesterday, she’s back home and doing great. Thanks for asking.”

“Of course!” You grinned back. “Did you ever find out what she had?”

“Pneumonia, just a very bad case of it.”

You nodded in understanding. “Well, I’m glad she’s better! I was worried when you first told me.”

The conversation continued, talking about anything and everything as you drove to the compound. He told you about his wife, his four kids and what they’re doing. His granddaughter had a baby a few days before, and he was extremely excited about it.

After a 20 minute drive, you pulled up to the building you knew so well. Bernard went to the normal procedure of getting through the front gates, and then pulled up to the front of the compound.

“Well, here we are.” Bernard announced, parking the vehicle. You and your father began climbing out of the backseat.

“Thank you, bernard. Tell your granddaughter I said congratulations!”

He wished you a kind goodbye, and then you were gone, leaving the car and heading towards the compound.

When you walked into the main section of the building, you spotted your best friend in the kitchen. You had to admit, he looked incredible, standing near an open window in the early morning light. He was already dressed in his sleek, black training uniform. It was tight against his body, showing off his muscled body. Sometimes, you forget how beautiful Peter is.

“You’re staring…” A singsong voice came in your ear. You whipped your head towards the voice to see your father walking away from you, smirking. You stood there, feeling slightly confused. Had you really been staring at Peter?

At times, you forget that Peter is only your best friend. The two of you act like an old married sometimes. You spend all of your time together, and you know each other so well.

Strange feelings you couldn’t understand had crept up on you before, especially recently. You couldn’t deny Peter was attractive, and he was a great person, too. How could you not love him? The issue is, you found yourself loving him in a different way than before…

You shook your head, clearing your thoughts. You couldn’t be thinking about this right now, it’s not the place or time. Peter was standing right in front of you, and you needed to be focused for training.

You could process your feelings and emotions at a later time.

You began walking up to Peter, who was leaning up against the counter holding a cup of coffee.

“Morning, loser.” You said teasingly, greeting your friend. His head snapped in your direction, and he smiled when his eyes found you. (You thought you could see his cheeks go pink, too, but you forced yourself to ignore it.)

“Hey! How’d you sleep?”

“Pretty good.” You replied, leaning against the counter beside him. “I didn’t even notice that you left last night, I was really out. Did my Dad come in and tell you to leave?”

The pink in Peter’s cheeks darkened at your statement. Of course, this was the perfect time for your father to reenter the room. “Yeah, I did. He seemed very comfortable, but I kicked him out at one.”

Peter and your father were making direct eye contact. Your dad had that stupid smirk on his face, and peter was bright red.

You looked between the two of them, not knowing what to think. Before, you were just suspicious, but now it was confirmed: something happened last night between the two of them, and you were determined to find out what.

Hours later, you’re completely exhausted from training. You worked your ass off, and had successfully beat Peter in sprints.

“That’s right! You lost! How amazing is spiderboy now?”

Peter rolled his eyes in mock annoyance. “Whatever, Y/N. I let you win.”

Your jaw dropped. “You did not! I won because I’m better!”

Peter just smiled at you. You took a swig of the water bottle in your hands, turning around to look at your friend as you did.

The sight you were met with was very sweet. Peter stood there, smiling at you with a look you could only describe as adoration. You looked back at him, a small grin resting on your face.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” The brunette boy says cheekily.

“Why are YOU looking at ME like that, Parker?”

You took a step closer to him, his eyes widening slightly at your movement. He said nothing in response to your question (though it felt more like an accusation), and you smiled again.”Got nothing to say?” Your voice was barely a whisper.

“Parker!” You jumped what felt like 20 feet in the air at the sound of Natasha’s voice, breaking up the little moment between you and Peter.

You stepped back away from him, and you couldn’t help but notice the sadness flash across his face before he turned to the other woman in the room.

“Yeah, Nat?”

“Tony needs your help in the lab. I believe his exact words were ‘he needs to be here in five or I’ll kill him.’ A few minutes have already passed, I’d start running if I were you.”

Peter’s eyes widened for the second time. “Oh, shit, okay. Thanks, Nat.” He turned his head quickly in your direction. “I’ll meet you in your room when I’m done, okay?”

You nodded with a smile. Peter planted a quick kiss on your forehead before jetting off in the direction of the lounge.

Grinning to yourself, you turned towards the sink, your back facing Natasha. You begin cleaning out your now empty water bottle, thinking over the previous interaction with Peter. You loved when he kissed your forehead.

“So, how long have you liked him?” You were so deep in thought, Natasha’s voice made you jump once again. When you’d fully processed her words, your cheeks went pink.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Oh, don’t give me that. I know you like him.”

“Like who?” Play dumb. That’ll throw her off your trail… right?

“Peter! Come on, you’re caught. Just admit it, Y/n, you’re making things harder on yourself.”

Finally, you sighed. Drying your hands on a towel, you turned reluctantly back towards Nathasha. “Is it really that obvious?”

The woman broke out into a grin at your words. “Of course it is! You two are hopelessly in love with each other. It’s almost hard to watch.”

Your cheeks went pink at her statement. “With each other? Oh, no. You mean I’m hopelessly in love with him. It’s not mutual. I’m just his best friend.”

Nat rolled her eyes dramatically. “Oh, come on! ‘Just his best friend’ my ass. He loves you, Y/N. He’s even more obvious than you are.”

You shook your head quickly. “No, I promise you’re wrong.”

She looked at you pointedly. “I was right about you, wasn’t I?”

“Yes, but…” Your voice trailed off. You couldn’t argue with that. Nat grinned smugly at your reaction.

“That’s what I thought. Please confess to him when he meets you in your room later. It’s painful to watch, I can’t do it any longer.” And with that, Natasha was gone, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

Was it really thought obvious? Could everyone tell how you felt about peter? You could hardly even tell how you felt about him; the line between best friend and crush had been blurred for so long. If everyone could tell that you were hopelessly in love with your best friend, you would be incredibly embarrassed.

Even worse… what if Peter could tell that your in love with him?

You shook your head, as if clearing your thoughts. No. You couldn’t think like that. Of course he didn’t know; he would’ve said something.

Right?

Sighing, you walked off towards your room to take a shower, pretending you weren’t going to think of him while you were in there.

---

While Natasha was exposing your feelings, you were completely oblivious to the fact that Tony was doing the same thing to Peter in the lab.

When the boy walked in, Peter fully expected that he was being called for one of three reasons.

One: Tony had a new mission for Peter.

Two: Tony needed help with an experiment.

Or, three (the scariest option): Tony wanted to scold him for (albeit unintentionally) cuddling with his daughter the night before.

Peter could only be described as apprehensive as he walked carefully into the lab, where Tony was hunched over a table, working on something that Peter couldn’t see.

“Mr. Stark?” Peter spoke nervously, a timid way of letting Tony know of his presence. “Nat said you needed me. Is that true, or was she just trying to get rid of me?”

“No, no, I called for you.” Tony replied. He made a few last touches on whatever he was working on, then turned around towards peter. “I wanted to talk to you.”

Okay, option two is eliminated. Now, the question at hand is: will it be option one or three?

“Oh, okay. What about?” Peter said casually (or at least, that's how he hoped it came across.)

Tony gave a pointed look to the boy before speaking again. “My daughter.”

Peter’s eyes widened slightly.

Shit, shit, shit.

Option three it is.

“Is this about last night sir? I swear I can explain-” Peter was quickly speaking.

But, before he could finish, Tony was cutting him off.

“This isn’t about last night, kid. I mean, it kind of is, but not really.”

Peter’s brow furrowed.

Unknown option number four?

“What do you mean, sir?”

“I saw what happened before you left last night. The forehead kiss, the ‘I love you,’ all of it.”

Peter was bright red in seconds. “Oh…”

“Do you love my daughter, Peter?”

The boy’s cheeks somehow managed to go a darker shade of pink.

“I-I uh.. O-of course I do, she’s, uh, she’s my best friend.” Peter stammered out.

Tony narrowed his eyes. “That’s not what I mean, Peter.” The man says, his tone borderline accusatory. “Do you love her, love her?”

Silence. Peter didn’t know what to say, so he opted for nothing at all.

“I already know the answer, Peter, so you might as well just come out and say it.”

Peter pondered his next move. If he played his cards wrong, this conversation could end in him losing his life. Tony Stark was not one to be messed with, especially when it comes to Y/N.

On the other hand, Tony Stark was not one to be lied to, either.

Peter sighed, accepting his fate. “How did you know?”

Much to Peter’s surprise, Tony gave a small smile. “I see the way you look at her, kid. I’ve looked at many girls like that in my day. That enamoured look. You're in love with my daughter, and I have some questions.”

“Questions?”

“Yes, questions, kid. Keep up.”

Peter nodded. “Alright.”

“How long?” Tony asked.

“How long…?” Peter didn’t understand what Tony was aking.

“How long have you been in love with Y/N! How long have you known?”

Peter looked away, breaking eye contact momentarily out of nerves.

When did he begin loving you? Now that he’s truly thinking about it, he can’t really remember.

Maybe it was the first mission that the two of you did together, back when you still known as irongirl. It was a bank robbery, an easy task that Tony had given for your very first mission.

Maybe it was that one time when you dragged him out of bed at 6 AM so that you could show him your favorite coffee shop.

Perhaps it was when you took that faithful mission to Asgard, when you gained your powers accidentally, earning your new title as Nova.

Or, it could be the time that you and him stayed up late binge watching a show he couldn’t remember. He couldn’t take his eyes off of you that night. You looked so beautiful that night, getting excited as something cool happened in the show. Your hair was tied back, wearing an oversized shirt, your face makeup free. He couldn’t help but smile as you laughed, and didn’t think he’d ever heard a more beautiful sound in the world.

Yeah, he thinks it was that night.

“Um… about ten months ago, I think? That’s when I realized, but I think I’ve loved her for longer. I just forced myself not to acknowledge it, I guess.”

Tony nodded in understanding. “I get that. What is it about her?”

Another question the boy had to think about.

“There’s a lot of things, I think. Like how excited she gets when she talks about things she’s passionate about. Oh, and the way she laughs when something’s funny in a movie or a show or something. And the way she sends me memes or videos that she thinks are funny. They’re usually not very funny, but of course I think it’s hilarious just because she sent it to me. And she always listens to me when I talk, even if I’m talking about something stupid and boring like science stuff I think is interesting. She talks back to me like she cares what I’m saying, and I know she probably doesn’t, but she acts like she does, and that’s enough. She always drags me out to go on adventures, or, at least, that’s what she calls them. Usually it’s just going to get coffee or try out some new restaurant she heard about but it’s still fun. She’s just so amazing, and I think she makes me the best version of myself.”

The rant ended, and for a moment, Peter forgot that Tony was even in the room.

“Damn. I wasn’t expecting that. I’m impressed, kid. To be honest, I expected some shallow answer like ‘she looks hot in her suit’ or something like that.”

“No, sir. Of course, she’s beautiful, but Y/N is just so much more than that.”

Tony gave another sweet smile to the boy in front of him.

“She likes you, too, you know.”

Peter’s head snapped toward Tony again.

What the hell did he just say?

“What?”

“Y/N. She likes you.”

“No way. She just sees me as her best friend. I’m probably like a brother to her. She doesn’t like me like that.”

“But she does, kid. I know my daughter better than I know myself. She is head over heels for you, spidey. Which is why you should tell her how you feel.”

“Tell her how I feel? Why would I do that?”

“Because she likes you, too, and then you two will be stupid kids in love.”

“Are you serious?”

“Aren’t I always?”

Peter paused for a moment. “I thought you’d kill me when you found out I liked your daughter, not convince me to go talk to her about it.”

“I’m gonna be honest with you, kid. I brought you in here with the intention of killing you, or just telling you to stay away from my daughter. But after you went on that little rant about why you loved her, I just couldn’t tell you to keep away from her. You really love her, kid, I can tell. So go talk to her.”

“You’re sure you won’t be mad if I ask her out?”

Tony shook his head and smiled.

“Go get her, kid.”

-------

Freshly clean and feeling a significant amount better, you sat on your bed scrolling on your phone. Thoughts of Peter had begun to fade (mainly because you forced them out of your mind) and that helped to keep you from stressing about what’s to come.

You had decided to confess how you feel to Peter.

True, this plan could ruin everything. Today could be the day you lost your best friend, and that thought made you want to cry.

But today could also be the day you finally get to kiss the boy you’ve loved forever, and that thought also made you want to cry.

You didn't have much time to think about it further, however, because Peter was knocking on your bedroom door.

“Y/N? It’s me. Can I come in?”

You paused immediately, your heart rating speeding up.

Oh, shit. This is it. This could be the beginning or the end of you and Peter Parker.

You took a deep breath, steadying yourself. It was now or never.

“Yeah, Petey, come on in.”

The door opened, and the boy you loved so much walked in. His cheeks were pink, you noticed. His cheeks only went pink when he’s nervous. Why was he nervous?

You could tell by his damp hair that he had also showered before coming to your room.

“I need to talk to you about something.” He rushes out.

Oh.

“Same.” is your reply. What else are you meant to say?

“Oh, really? Well, uh, you can go first. I’ll wait.”

You shook your head frantically. “No, you first. You said it first, so it’s only right that you go.”

Peter’s hand went to the back of his neck, rubbing it. Another nervous habit of his.

“Can I sit down?”

You nodded. Why was he even asking? Usually he’d just plop down whenever he pleased, no questions asked. This behavior was very out of character for the boy you knew so well.

The boy sat down on the edge of your bed, and then took a deep breath. “Okay. I don’t know how to tell you this, but I just have to. I don’t want you to hate me, and I really hope this doesn’t affect our friendship, but…”

Peter paused for a moment, and looked into your eyes. They were brimming with concern, and he just couldn’t hold it back anymore. He broke the eye contact you’d been maintaining, mustered up all the courage he could, and then blurted it out.

“I’m in love with you. I have been for I don’t know how long. I wasn’t planning on telling you, because I didn’t want to ruin our friendship, but it was starting to get physically painful and I just- I can’t hide it anymore. I love you and I’m sorry.”

Peter clenched his eyes shut, unable to look at your face. He waited (very anxiously) for a reaction, but it never came. Eventually, he opened his eyes, gaining the burst of bravery it took to look at you.

Your jaw was dropped, the expression on your face unreadable.

Oh, no. No no no no no. He’d fucked up. He fucked everything up and now you were never going to speak to him again. He’d lost you. Damn you, Tony Stark.

“Y/N…” He began his apology solemnly. “I’m-”

But he never got to finish his sentence.

Because you were pouncing on him before he had the chance to.

You were on him within seconds, kissing him with so much intensity that he fell back on the bed. He was taken aback for a moment, but quickly kissed you back.

For a moment, the two of you just lay there, wrapped in one another, kissing like there was no tomorrow.

A kiss that made up for all the ones both of you had longed to have in the months before.

You pulled away gently, looking into Peter’s eyes.

“I have loved you for so fucking long, Peter. I was going to tell you that I loved you today.”

“Are you serious?”

You laughed lightly. “Of course I’m serious, you dumbass.”

“Hey!” Peter feigned offense.

You pecked his lips. “You’re a cute dumbass, though.” And then you were kissing him again, and it’s all you could’ve asked for.

----

After a while, the two of you had finally tired each other out, and now you sat cuddled against each other on your bed. No movie or show was playing; it was just you and Peter, listening to each other’s breathing and the sound of your heartbeats.

You looked up at the beautiful boy you were cuddling with, only to find he was already looking down at you.

“Aren’t you going to ask me out, Parker?”

Peter’s eyes widened, and his cheeks went red (for the millionth time that day.)

“Oh, yeah, I- I just thought- nevermind, uh- Y/N, will-”

“Yes, of course I’ll be your girlfriend, Petey.” You cut him off, saving him a few extra minutes of nervous stammering.

He smiled sheepishly at you, then leaned down to bring you into a kiss.

You cuddled back down into his chest, smiling warmly.

You can confidently say that right now, in this moment, you are the happiest you’ve ever been.

[marvelsbetch]

Peter Parker’s parent teacher conference

Warnings: IronStrange, Supremefamily, bullied Peter, dick head teachers, anxious Peter and homophobia.

-Peter POV-

"Hey Bambi, why didn't you tell us about your parent-teacher conference tomorrow night?" Pops asked sitting next to me on the living room couch.

"I didn't think you would've wanted to go? Dads not the one for school or teachers and you're -well- you." I explained tentatively.

"I'll take that as a compliment. Just so you know, we'll be there for around 5 so just after your decathlon meeting. It'll just be me and your dad so no need to be embarrassed." Pops told me.

"Thanks. This'll be the first parent-teacher conference I would've ever been to." I told him.

"Same kid. It's a first time experience for us all." Pops smiled at me.

"Not many times that happens." I commented resting my head on his shoulder.

"No it's not Bambi, no it's not." He smiled putting his head on mine.

-Next day at 5 o'clock-

"Hey Penis, what're you still doing here? This is a thing for kids with parents." Flash taunted walked passed me in the gymnasium as I waited for my dads.

"Shut up Flash, you know nothing about my family." I told him.

"You better watch your tone Parker or you'll have another black eye." Flash threatened getting really close to me.

"If you would be so kind as to step away from my kid, it would he greatly appreciated." Pops' voice spoke from next to me. They must've just arrived.

"Oh my God! It's Stephen Strange! And Tony Stark!" Flash all but yelled making the whole room fall silent.

"It's Stephen Stark actually. I didn't spend thousands on a wedding for people to not recognise my changed last name." Pops corrected.

"I'm so sorry. I'm such a fan of both of your works." Flash blabbered composing himself.

"Eugene! We've been looking everywhere for you!" A man, who I presume is Flash's father, scolded walking up to us with a woman trailing behind.

"Sorry father but look who I found. The Starks." Flash excitedly announced.

At this point I slowly slipped away from him and walked up to my Dad who gladly greeted me with a hug. I could feel the warmth of the arc reactor on my chest and it gave a strange comfort. After a few moments we let go but I didn't move very far, being so close to Flash made me really anxious.

"Underoos you okay?" Dad asked me worriedly trying to look into my eyes.

"Yeah I'm fine, just tired. I was up late finishing a piece of homework last night." I lied hoping Pops wouldn't say anything as I fell asleep on him last night.

"Wow Mister Stark. I must say I'm a big fan of your work. If you haven't noticed I try to style myself off of you." Flash's father said showing off his black tailored suit and aviator sunglasses and reached out for a handshake.

"I'm flattered but I don't do handshakes. I'm not the biggest fan of touching." Dad told him trying to give a convincing smile.

"Then why've you got an arm around Pen-Peter?" Flash asked making both my Dads give him the 'Bitch WTF' look. I hate that look. Dad was about to say something but I decided to cut in.

"So, why don't we do what you came here to do and speak to my teachers? Sounds great, let's go." I spoke grabbing Pops' hand and dragging him and Dad to one of my teachers.

"Who was he?" Dad asked in a demanding tone.

"Nobody important. Look Mr. Harrington's free. Let's go and talk to him." I rushed and pulled my dads towards Mr. Harrington's table.

"Ah, Peter and Mr. and Mr. Stark. Lovely to meet you, I love all you've done for the world." Mr Harrington spoke as we took our seats.

"Thank you Mr. Harrington." Pops said.

"No problem. So, I teach Peter Physics and I've got no problems. The only thing I would say is that he is often on his phone during lesson and doesn't listen that much. However with that being said, he's never got below an A+ on his tests. You should be proud of him." Mr. Harrington smiled.

"We are. Is that all?" Dad said ruffling my hair slightly.

"That's all thanks." Mr. Harrington announced and shook Pops' hand before we walked away.

"That was a really good report but who're you texting during class? It better not be one of the others or your dad." Pops asked and gave Dad a pointed look.

"No it's this guy I met online. His names Harley Keener and he seems really nice." I explained as I lead them to my history teacher.

"Harley Keener?" Dad asked shocked.

"Yeah. Why? Do you know him?" I questioned.

"Sorta. I'll explain when we get home." Dad dismisses before turning around to face my history teacher Mrs. Keens.

"Wow, this is a shock. It's not everyday the Starks turn up to a parent-teacher conference. How are you both?" She rushed out slightly flustered.

"We're doing fine thank you. How is Peter in this subject?" Pops asked, straight to the point as always.

"Peter is amazing, always hands his homework in on time, always listens in lesson and has never received less than an A on a test. You should be proud of him." She informed smiling at me.

"Wow, our little goody-two-shoes." Dad teased ruffling my hair slightly.

"One thing that you may or may not be aware of is a boy called Eugene Thomson. He seems to be bullying Peter for whatever reason, I've caught him a few times throwing paper balls at Peter or sliding him malicious notes. I'm not sure if it's friendly or not but I felt you should know. Thank you." Mrs. Keens informed, may the ground swallow me up now.

"We will also discuss this later on." Pops told me sternly, oh no.

We left Mrs. Keens with a slight wave and headed back to the main area to find another teacher. My eyes landed on my English teacher who didn't seem very happy, this is not going to end well.

"Oh look, it's your English teacher." Dad commented and pointed to Mr. Malory. Fuuuuuuuuck.

"How do you know my English teacher?" I asked worriedly.

"Research department, making sure my son has the best education he can. Let's go to him now while he's free." Dad brushed off and started to walk towards him. God save me.

My English teacher hates me for no reason, always turns a blind eye to Flash, always nitpicks my assignments and finds any reason to not give me a good grade. He's also quite homophobic and has expressed on many occasions his hatred for my Dads and anything to do with them. He even leads a group called the 'Freedom from Starks'. This is so not ending well.

"Peter, didn't expect to see you here." Mr. Malory commented not looking up from his clip board.

"Well, this is a parent-teacher conference and I, as his parent, would like to speak to my sons teacher about his school work. If you'd be so kind." Dad said, his words oozing sarcasm and sass. He really did his research.

Mr. Malory picked his head up and stared Dad dead in the face. The distaste clearly shown on both faces as the three of us took our seats, Pops took Dad's hand, probably as a way to calm him down. This is worse than I thought.

"Well, if I'm being honest, Peter is the worse student I've ever taught. He's disruptive in lessons, throws paper at a wonderful student called Flash Thompson, slides Flash malicious notes and seems to find any excuse to blame Flash. His work is simply upgradable and I couldn't thing on a bigger lost cause than your son. Any questions?" Mr. Malory spoke and Dads face got redder and redder with anger.

"Really, then why did the last teacher we speak to say it was the other way around, that 'Flash' was the one throwing paper and passing notes?" Dad questioned leaning forward in his seat.

"Look, I don't know what happens in other lessons and quite frankly, I don't care. All I know is Peter is a major distraction and it's bordering bulling with Flash." Mr. Malory told us.

"What about his work is so upgradable? Is it his handwriting or the content of what he's writing?" Pops asked placing his other hand on top of Dads. This is getting serious.

"The content. The ludicrous stories of the Norse Gods and his 'adventures' with them are beyond reason. His stories are beyond the realm of possibility and are just ludicrous." Mr. Malory told them.

"His stories about the Norse Gods, does this involve Thor putting his hammer in inconvient places or Loki and black widow being kind and caring to others?" Das asked.

"Yes." Was Mr. Malory's short response.

"Well, it is within the realm of possibility as it happens. Every single day at the compound or sanctum." Pops spit out trying to keep calm.

"Oh well, maybe he should learn to be more creative with his stories." Mr. Malory spoke silently challenging Pops.

"Thanks sir." I hastily said before dragging both my dads out of their seats and walking off.

"No Pete, I would like to hear more about how much of a bad student you are." Dad argued challenging Mr Mallory.

"And I will be glad to provide. Mr Park-"

"Stark." Dad deadpans.

"Mr Stark is highly disruptive not only to Mr Thomson but is also always on his phone, sleeping in class or just straight up not listening. Honestly, his behaviour is a reflection as to why you people shouldn't be allowed to have kids, you simply don't know how to raise them." Mr Mallory continued to explain. Dad went red.

"What do you mean by you people?" Pops asked scarily calm as be placed a hand on Dad's knee to soothe him slightly.

"Gays. You shouldn't be allowed children because there's not a mother to properly raise them, I never had these issues when Peter lived with May. I honestly think it would be in his best interest to place him back in her care."

Oh my god. He knows May is dead. He knows that I can't be 'placed back in her care' and It was the same when I did live with her, nothing changed.

We were all stunned into silence, including some of the surrounding parents and teachers who were stunned. Well, we were silent until Dad blew up at him.

"How dare you," he began, "I take as good care of my son as any other parent here does, I give him as much as I can and do everything I can to be a good parent to him. If he's sleeping in your classes or being distracted then maybe you should make your lessons more interesting and not be blind sighted by your homophobic, bigoted and downright dickish beliefs. Your head may be crammed so far up your ass you can smell your lungs but maybe once join us in the real world and see that just because people are different doesn't mean they're not as capable. I will be putting in a formal complaint and if I were you, I'd start looking for new places of employment seeing as I am one of the biggest donators to this school. Come on Pete, we're going home."

Dad then grabbed Pops' hand and my arm before storming out of the building towards the car. You could see the steam coming out of his ears as Pops tried in a desperate attempt to calm him down.

I think I can safely say that this night was a disaster.

[loving-all-for-loki]

Voiceless Love: Chapter One

New Beginnings

Bucky x reader, Loki x reader

Warnings: fluff

Word Count: 1513

AN: This is going to be a shorter one, but the next chapters will be much longer. Thank you for being patient while I set the scene.

Tag List: @caffeineoverloadandstudying

“Rise and shine, boys." Fury announced. He had gathered everyone into the meeting room in an 'emergency call'. 

“Do we have to do this at 4 a.m?” Natasha complains.

“Yes, now listen. About three weeks ago, S.H.I.E.L.D took notice of this girl in Indiana and saw some strange things happening around her. They looked deeper into it and realized she could be a new asset to the team. They recruited her and informed her of what’s going to happen, so with no further adieu, I’d like for you all to meet the newest avenger, Y/N L/N. 

You walk into the meeting room with terror in your eyes. Steve and Tony recognized your fear and gave you gentle smiles. Banner waved along with Thor and Natasha. The rest simply said hi. Loki and Bucky however had given her more of a stoic look, one filled with wonder and intrigue.

“Y/N will be joining you all from now on, please make her welcome.” Fury announced. He then slid your member folder over to Tony to look at. Upon reading the file, he noticed in small handwriting near important information: selective mute. Tony looked up and met eyes with Steve who gave him a quizzical look. He circled the writing and slid the file over to Steve who saw the same thing. 

Tony stands up and walks over to you, placing a hand on her shoulder.

“I’ll show you your room,” he says with a gentle smile.

The two leave the room and silently walk through the hallways. Tony kept looking over to you, wondering what would have made this girl like this. You catch him staring and he quickly looks away, but you can’t help but feel off. The looks from the billionaire are unsettling, almost unwanted. 

“You’re going to love it here.” He says, “Everyone is nice, except maybe Reindeer Games, but you can ignore him.”

He looks down at Y/N and sees her smile. There's a sense of accomplishment in making her smile, hoping he can break down her walls a little and make her more comfortable. 

“You’ll love Steve and Bucky, they’re gentlemen. Natasha is nice behind her tough exterior and I don’t think Bruce could have a tough exterior if he tried.

Y/N looks at Tony and silently chuckles, her walk starting to become less alarmed and stiff.

“Thor is just a giant puppy, so don’t let his energy intimidate you,” he chuckles.

They get to the end of the hall where Y/N’s room is. He stops in front of it and opens the door for her.

“Here’s your room. I don’t know how much Fury told you about this Tower or us, but my room is across the hall and Steve is right next door. Feel free to come to us anytime if you need help or have questions. We also have an A.I. system named Jarvis. Normally we would speak to him for assistance, but in your case, I’ll start working on a tablet for you to have a way to type to him.”

You walk into the room and look around. There’s a great big bed, an empty bookcase, and a small desk. Turning around to look at Tony, who is smiling at the whimsical girl, you walk back to him and give him a tight hug around his waist. 

“I take this as a thank you?” You nod your head, making Tony lightly chuckle and hug you back. “I'm sure you have some boxes of your stuff? I can help you move it.”

Nodding your head again, the two walk towards the elevator to find Steve and Thor walking out with boxes in their hands.

“I assume these are hers?” Steve says, “ The receptionist called and said there were moving boxes being dropped off.”

They look over to you and you nod her head. You take some of the boxes from Steve’s hands and walk back towards the hallway. Steve and Thor look at Tony and let out a little shrug before they follow the Y/H/C hair girl. 

“How long do you think it’ll take for her to warm up to us?” Steve whispers.

“I’m not sure. If I’ve learned anything from midgardians, they can be very stubborn and closed off.”

“You just learned that from Bucky didn’t you?”

“It only took me two minutes with that man to learn something.”

They enter the room, but Y/Np pushes them out quickly.

“Wait Y/N, don’t you want your-”

You grab the boxes from Thor and set them down yourself before grabbing the rest from Steve. You close the door on the boys without smiling or any kind of thanks. Steve, puzzled, goes to find Tony. 

He finds Tony in the lab working on a suit for Y/N. Papers are all over the places of images of her doodled all over. It’s similar to Natasha's suit but more angelic and wings made of blades.

“These are cool designs.” Steve states.

“Yeah, I’m trying to make something based on her powers and the file Fury gave me.”

“What are her powers?”

“She was infused with some kind of fluid meant for someone else when she was little and it healed her but gave her healing powers. There’s not a lot on the record, but from what I gathered, she didn’t choose it nor did she know what happened until like three years ago when she noticed her car accident wounds healed on their own.”

“That’s strange.”

“I think it was some kind of superhuman juice like the kind they gave you.”

Steve remembers that day like it was yesterday, the way everyone looked at him in awe, but to not have known that happened to you and everyone looking at you like a freak must have been a different feeling.

“Why are you here?” Tony questions.

“I was wondering if there was anything in her file about behaviors. When Thor and I tried to help her move, she wouldn’t let us into her room.”

“Maybe she has something to do with privacy, did you ever think about that?”

“Yeah, you’re right. I’m probably overthinking it.”

Hours pass by and the sun goes down. Feeling restless and unsettled, you start to unpack her boxes more. Photos of your family and friends from high school, stuffed animals, plants. Knowing it will never feel like home hurts. You'd give everything to go home, even your spot on the avengers.

You spread her blankets out along your bed. Being used to a twin-sized bed, it’s funny to see the small blankets on the queen-sized bed. She chuckles to herself, letting out a little whimper.

“It’s good to hear you, Y/N.”

You get freaked out by the unknown voice. Looking around, there's no one in the room or the doorway. 

“Sorry to scare you, Y/N. I am J.A.R.V.I.S. A pleasure to meet you.”

Not knowing how to talk to it, You leave it alone and don’t respond. Fearing the sound of an unknown intelligence is scary and makes you wonder if anyone can hear the conversations it has like maybe Tony has some kind of audio peeping tom headset.

After unpacking all of her things, your stomach rumbles. You debate about leaving your room and getting a snack until another rumble from your stomach settles the debate. You carefully open the door, trying to not make a sound and wake up Tony across from her. No one lurks in the hallway, so you quickly grab her blanket and sprint down the hallways towards the kitchen. 

The light is off in the main room. You struggle to see anything and almost run into the island counter while trying to find the cabinets with the snacks. You silently open every bottom drawer, but none of them are filled with snacks. Not being able to quite reach the top cabinets, you climb on top of the counter and go through them to find a box of Cheez-its in one.

Wondering who would even eat Cheez-its in this team, you start munching on them while sitting on the counter, your legs swinging off the side. Surely, it had to be Banner who ate these because everyone else looks too much like a gym junkie to eat something like these, except maybe Thor. He seems like a snacker.

“Hello.”

Jumping at the sound of a low, but gentle voice coming out of the dark, you look around but don't see anyone, so carefully you hop down from the counter and cautiously walk toward the hallway while facing the main room.

“Oh, sorry I just realized you can’t see me in the dark,” the voice chuckles. The voice comes out of the darkness and reveals a long brown-haired man with a metal arm, “Nice to meet you, I’m Bucky.”

[ladyeliot]

The headache

Based on  “Anything that can go wrong will go wrong” [80s]

Pairing: Teen!Tony Stark x Teen!Reader [Murph Lindon] / Teen!Natasha Romanoff x Teen!Reader

Summary: Alternative Universe. Who hasn't had a little note conversation with a friend during the most boring lesson? And how many times have you been caught?

Warnings: Sexual innuendos. Enemies to lovers.

Word count: 1438

A/N: I Sorry for my spelling and grammatical mistakes, English is not my native language, I am learning.

Thursday mornings were Mr. Hoover's Geography class, one of the most boring classes the seniors had to endure during the week. The only thing that could ease Murph's suffering was that he shared it with his friends, but that wasn't enough to keep him from wanting to jump out the window and fall two stories down. The faces of each of his companions evidenced the same thoughts, but Natasha seemed to have found entertainment because of the smile on her face. Murph stared at her friend, who sat two rows ahead, diagonal to her, and it was at that very moment that her friend turned and threw with great aim a small circular piece of paper, which landed on her desk. That meant that the conversation through notes between Natasha and Murph was beginning.

"I'm still thinking about what you told me last night. I can't believe you're going to do it on Saturday morning ;)"

Her handwriting was tiny, she had a great ability to make it so that if someone picked up the note they could barely read what she had written. Murph frowned and denied to herself, crossed out Nat's words, so that if anyone picked up the paper they wouldn't know what the conversation was about, and wrote below.

"What are you talking about, who said 'it' was going to happen on Saturday?"

Murph's aim was not quite as accurate, but the note fell right at Nat's feet, who picked up the paper as Mr. Hoover turned away. Murph fiddled with the pen between her fingers as she waited for her friend to return the paper.

"Open your eyes, H. didn't invite you to his house to study, but to 'study'."

Again Murph denied to herself, though a goofy grin was professed on her face as she answered that note.

"Justin's not like that."

The moment he handed the note back to Natasha he realised that he had broken one of the main rules of inter-note conversations, writing a full name. Luckily Natasha got hold of the paper before anyone else did. It took Natasha only a few seconds to read the note and return it to Murph, but unfortunately she was not so good at throwing it that time, and it landed right at the feet of Murph's sidekick, Tony.

Tony had been keeping a close eye on their conversation, for as mentioned earlier, this was the most boring class of the week. Thus, he only had to extend his left foot a few centimetres to draw the note towards him. A heat flooded Murph's body, and he threw a kick in his direction, trying to hit his shin, but his partner on the right deftly dodged it, catching the note between his toes.

"Don't even think about reading it Stark, you read it and you're a dead man." He whispered through his teeth, noting the wide grin of arrogance on Tony's face.

"Why not?" he asked quietly with the paper in his hands. "What is it that's so interesting that keeps you two so entertained?"

Slowly and without wiping off that lopsided smile, he unfolded the little note. Murph found himself tense, under the watchful eye of Natasha, who had realised what the situation was. Mr. Hoover's voice had become background noise, he barely remembered his presence. She gripped the table tightly, having faith that Tony wouldn't do it, but he did, Tony's fingers increased their speed as he opened the paper and turned his gaze to those letters.

She couldn't help it, finally leaping up at Tony, trying to knock the paper out of his hands, starting a fight in the middle of Geography class. The scuffle brought noises with it, catching the attention of their classmates and also Mr. Hoover, who stopped writing on the blackboard and looked at the two of them.

"What the hell is going on!" he exclaimed, dropping the chalk on his desk. "Miss Lindon! Take your seat immediately."

Though her fight was austere, Murph was finally able to get the note completely out of her hands, for which she was proud of herself. Mr. Hoover directed her steps towards them, prostrating himself between the two tables and holding out his palm.

"Give me right now what you just took from Mr. Stark," he said sternly.

It took him a couple of seconds to consider what other alternatives he had, it even crossed his mind to eat the damn paper, but it would probably make it worse.

"Mr. Hoover I-" Natasha started to say, but the professor's stern look silenced her.

"Miss Lindon..." he asked again, holding out his palm to her.

She finally gave in and placed the note in the palm of her teacher's hand, who was quick to put it back together and read it carefully. Murph stared straight ahead, avoiding making eye contact with any of his classmates, while biting his tongue to vent his inner anger.

"Miss Lindon, I'm glad you're meeting Mr. Hammer to study on Saturday, but I'd like you to attend to my lectures during my class time.

As Murph listened to those words his face grew pinker, in the background he could hear how most of his classmates seemed to be amused by the situation.

"Since you have been entertaining me during my two hours of class, I hope you will inform me that you will not be able to keep your appointment with Mr. Hammer on Saturday morning,'' he said, ''I want you in the detention room first thing in the morning.

Those words brought a smile to Tony's face, who was one of many who seemed to be amused by the situation.

"And you don't smile so much Mr. Stark, because you're going with her."

"Excuse me Professor, but I-" suddenly the expression on his face changed.

"Any objections?" asked Mr. Hoover, looking at him intently, to which Tony chose to bite his tongue and deny with his face, giving him a broad, false smile. "Great."

The only person who didn't seem to grasp what was happening 100% was Steve, who watched the situation from the outside with a frown on his face, while Natasha, who was standing next to him, tried to explain to him what had happened. The class continued and Murph's anger at Tony's stupidity returned.

When the two and a half hours were up Murph gathered his things, getting up from his seat and slapping the back of Tony's head with his book before heading for the exit door of the classroom.

"Hey!" exclaimed Tony.

"Idiot," Natasha retorted before walking out of the classroom.

"You better not talk," her friend reproached. "I could have ratted you out."

Murph made it to the lockers and a second later Nat landed beside him.

"How can you hate a person so much?" he asked rhetorically. "It's unbearable, it's the sight of him and I get a headache, like a pain that comes and goes you know?"

Natasha looked at her guiltily, listening to her friend's rant as she helped her put her books away.

"Murph, I'm so sorry about what happened..."

"No! It's not your fault, it's that idiot Stark!" she slammed her locker shut. "I swear, if I could, I'd make him disappear from the universe right now."

After those words she let out all the air in her lungs, trying to relax. They both headed towards the cafeteria, where Steve was already holding his seat.

"Can someone explain to me what was in that note?" asked Steve in annoyance.

"You know you're the only one who attends class?" said Natasha looking at him.

"Hey, I thought today's class was interesting," he defended himself, but returned to the initial topic. "Hey, what was on that note?"

Murph shook his hand in denial, downplaying the fact that it had happened, he needed to change the subject otherwise he knew his bad mood was going to be there all day.

"You'd better not push it, Murph has headaches that come and go," Nat commented with a smile.

At that moment Tony made his stellar entrance into the cafeteria with a broad smile, greeting a few students at various tables and giving a kiss on the cheek to one of the cheerleaders.

"Look, here comes the headache again." Nat smiled opening his can of Pepsi watching as Tony approached from the distance.

You can follow the story at  “Anything that can go wrong will go wrong”

Taglist Open (DM)

MAIN MASTERLIST

[hopscotchandlemon]

Find The Answer - Part Three

Gibbs/Reader

Rating: Teen

TW Mentions of death and bereavement

Gibbs left you with Abby who needed fingerprint and DNA samples to eliminate you from potential evidence she’s found on the letters and package. You’re still feeling fragile, but Abby was super sensitive.

‘Don’t worry (y/n), Gibbs will work this out. He always does,’ Abby says cheerfully as she swabs the inside of your cheek.

‘Poor guy is probably wishing he’d never given me his card.’ You joke as Abby puts the swab back in to the vial.

‘Oh no, Gibbs never says anything he doesn’t meant. If he gave you that card he would totally want you to call him. Those notes were super creepy, right?’

‘Yeah. I don’t even know what was in the package yet.

‘Evidence, (y/n). That what was inside the package!’ Abby beams.

Abby told you the package contained another note. Seemed a bit of a grand gesture for delivering another note but they obviously wanted to make sure you were listening.

**********************************

Abby walks back into her lab and starts to process the samples she took from (y/n). In another part of the lab, another machine beeps to alert her to a result being available.

‘What ya got Abs?’ Gibbs asks as he enters the lab.

At the moment the ink used to write the address on the package matches the ink used on the letters. It looks like it’s written with a fountain pen and I can tell you the ink used is created in small batches with only a few stockists in DC,’ Abby confirms while handing Gibbs the list of stockists. ‘I also got a partial finger-print of the sticky tape used on the package so I’m running that through the database.

‘Good stuff Abs, let me know if you get a match on the finger print.

Gibbs walks through to autopsy to find Ducky.

‘Ah Jethro, just in time, I’ve finished my profiling of our attempted blackmailer. I’d say this was definitely a man and I’d say this is someone who knows (y/n) reasonably well so maybe an ex-partner, friend or family member. Although they’re not demanding money, they definitely feel they should have some reward of some kind. The handwriting seems to indicate someone who wants to feel important.

**********************

You’d been at NCIS all day and you were bored. You’d drunk so much coffee you doubted you’d sleep tonight. Not that you were likely to sleep tonight thinking about who was leaving packages on your porch.

Gibbs walked in the room and gave a half smile.

‘Wanna go home?’ he asked.

‘That would be great,’ you reply.

‘The one catch is you have me for company tonight,’

You shrug. You’d never admit it but weirdness aside, it had been nice having Tony and Ziva to talk to last night. You knew Gibbs was a man of few words but having someone in the house would ease to loneliness.

You picked up takeaway on the way home and sat eating it at your kitchen table. Gibbs turned out be chattier than you thought he would and told you stories about your dad. After a couple of hours, you asked if any of the evidence had given them any idea who was sending the notes

‘There are a few leads that are being chased up. Our ME thinks this is someone you know quite well.’

‘Really? Wow.

I’m not sure who would do this.’

‘Any family members you haven’t seen eye to with?

‘Mom’s family haven’t really been in touch much since she died, I guess. My dad didn’t get on with one of uncles. But I don’t thing he and Mom were that close anyway.’

‘It’s worth checking out. Give me a name and I’ll get the team on to it tomorrow.’

‘Jerry Mather. Last I knew he still lived in DC.’

Gibbs took a note of the name to look up tomorrow. It was getting late. Gibbs insisted on taking the couch despite the offer of the spare room. You got him some blankets and said good night.

When you got downstairs the next morning, Gibbs was bust fixing the kitchen cupboards that had needed a bit of attention. Truth was they were broken when your dad was sick, but he didn’t have the energy and you certainly did not have the skill to fix them.

‘That’s really sweet, thank you!’ you exclaimed.

‘No problem. I woke up early so it put the time in.’

You picked up coffee on the way in to NCIS. You bought your laptop with you so you could at least do some work while you were there. Gibbs left you in the meeting room while he went to brief the team.

**********************************

Gibbs sent the team of the chase up the leads that had immerged. (y/n)’s uncle had a record so his details were easy to find. Before they could go check him out, (y/n) came running in to the office.

‘My neighbour called; my house is on fire!’

**********************************

Gibbs drove you straight to your house. It was engulfed. The Fire Department were already on the scene, but you knew the house was gone. As the rest of the NCIS team arrived you lost it. That house was the only thing you had left and now it was gone. You wept hysterically. Gibbs held you as you sobbed into his chest. He took you back to NCIS and left you with Abby who hugged you as you poured your heart out about everything.

Gibbs returned after a few hours. He confirmed it was arson.

‘We will catch him (y/n).

‘Doesn’t seem to matter any more,’ you replied. Today had wiped you out, left you feeling hopeless.

Gibbs walked up to you and gently brushed your cheek with the back of his finger before wrapping his arms around you.

‘You’ve still got your memories, he hasn’t taken them,’ he said softly. ‘Things will get better.’

As much as you wanted to believe him, you couldn’t imagine anything being better.

[the-demelza-robins]

american high school!jily (pt II)

hi! here’s a short chapter before The Big One (which is set on Halloween night and will hopefully come out on Halloween, if I have the energy). thanks so much for all the positive feedback, it makes me really happy! also you can read it on AO3 if you want  

read part one here

James and Lily are in the same math class; this fact is not new. What is new, however, is that today, he drops his bag in Sev’s seat, the one right next to her. 

“Hey,” he says, then nods once, as if this is normal. It is not.

“Hi,” she responds, because she doesn’t know what else to do. What she does know is that suddenly she’s aware of him, aware of the solidness of his form beside her. He’s tall, taller than Roger. She never really noticed that before.

He fiddles with his pencil. She blinks once, twice. She’s probably so attuned to his movements because he took Sev’s seat. Yes, that must be it. James sitting next to her means that Severus “I’m a fucking white supremacist” Snape can’t. Math has always been the worst, too — Lily cut Sev out of her life junior year, after he published that article, but he refuses to listen to her when she tells him to stay away, and sits next to her whenever he can. She has no friends in math class, no one to shoot him dirty looks and drown out his murmured apologies and arguments.

But James is here, now. Even if he’s not her friend. Even if he doesn’t know the significance of what he just did.

He’s still here. And that’s something.

***

Lily, please save me, the note reads, written in James’s messy scrawl. It took her a long time, as well as a lot of not-so-subtle hints from James, to realize that he’d written it in the first place. It takes her a little longer to decipher his handwriting, which is fine, because she’s ahead on the problems they’re supposed to be working through, caught in that in-between of being too good for regular math and not good enough for honors. As she looks at the curled-up bottom portion of his notebook, she senses Sev glaring daggers at her from across the room. Perfect.

From what? she writes back, letters neat and compact. James reads it almost immediately and takes a long time to respond.

The evil eye that Snivellus is giving me right now.

Ha, ha.

A smile spills out of the corner of his mouth as he writes back. Are you two involved in some sort of torrid love affair I didn’t know about? Am I making him #jelly?

That hashtag made me throw up in my mouth a little. She pauses, pencil flicking against the desk. She knows he’s watching, knows Sev is watching, and so she picks up the paper again and adds, and no, I am not involved with Sev. Would rather make out with Tony the Squid.

His smile widens, now, and she catches it in her peripheral vision. Not our school mascot. That’s too far, Evans.

It occurs to Lily that she’s acting exactly like elementary school James would. She’s laughing about Sev. Her past self would be disappointed.

But her past self didn’t know what Sev would become. She angles her body more towards James, away from her former best friend’s skin-crawling stare.

***

James sits with her again the next math class, and the one after that, too. She knows things about him, now: knows that he doodles soccer balls in the margins of his notebook; knows that he can’t stop moving, and sometimes when he’s bored of tapping his pencil he’ll tap his foot against her chair leg, unconsciously; knows that he has a little scar on his neck; knows that he can make her laugh with one passed note; knows that he still hates Sev as much as he did in eighth grade.

Lily’s the first to step into the math classroom today; or, at least, she thinks she is, until she spots Sev hovering near her seat, muttering to himself under his breath. Lily steels herself and walks by him, pointedly ignoring him as she slips into her chair.

“Lil —”

“Don’t call me that,” she says immediately, and glances towards the door. She’s forgotten what it feels like to be alone with Sev: like she’s been stripped bare, vulnerable, underneath all the layers of hatred and hurt.

Sev huffs, haughtily, in a way that’s so quintessentially him that it causes Lily physical pain. “You’re blowing it all out of proportion. I was looking at the situation from a purely economic perspective—”

“You were being fucking racist, Sev, and you know it,” she snaps, trying and failing to calm down. So easy, she is. The same conversation, every time: the same circles ran, with no ground lost or gained.

Sev opens his mouth to argue back, but before he can, a new voice cuts in.

“Should’ve known I’d find you here,” says James, speaking in a way she’s forgotten that he’s capable of: sharp, sharp as cut glass.

“This has nothing to do with you, Potter,” Sev says stiffly, gaze settling on James, who in turn looks at Lily, brow furrowed.

“You’re in my seat, Snivellus.”

Sev’s face turned red. “It was my seat first.”

“Then I guess it depends on what Lily wants.”

They both turn towards her, and this is where I get to choose, Lily realizes, with a startling burst of clarity. She knows she doesn’t want Sev, doesn’t want him near her, doesn’t want him begging for forgiveness with crocodile tears; she sucks in a breath, says, “That’s James’s seat.”

James smiles, just for a second, then slides into the seat next to her and starts to take out his math notebook. Sev stands, watching them, hands curled into fists; Lily can’t meet his eyes. Yes, he’s virtually unrecognizable from his childhood self, but rejection — rejection for James? James, who had made his early years a living hell?

She stares at the desk until she hears Sev’s retreating footsteps, knowing that to glance up and see the look of anguish on his face would make her feel even worse.

“Glad we got rid of Snivellus, huh, Evans?” James whispers, and he’s too close, sitting next to her with his pencil already tapping against the desk, a hand wafting through his hair. Lily feels like a child again, except this time she’s chosen the wrong side. She’s one of them now. Sev will never speak to her again.

Isn’t that what she wants? He’s a terrible person; she doesn’t long for his friendship. Still, a part of her — a very small part of her — wants him to want her. Another wave of revulsion consumes her; for a moment, she just stares at James, wondering how she’s gotten here. “I’m not like you, James.”

He blinks. “Yeah?”

She could yell at him. She could ask him why, all those years ago, he felt it necessary to call Sev Snivellus, to joke about his greasy hair and unwashed clothes, to ensure that he’d have no friends save Lily.

But in this moment, Lily’s more angry at herself. So instead, she turns towards the front of the classroom, hoping to find some sort of respite in calculus.

Sev doesn’t approach her again, after that.

***

Texts with Roger Davies, Tuesday, October 27th, 9:33pm

Roger: did you get rodriguez’s approval for the theme?

Lily: yeah, we’re all set!

Roger: okay great

Roger: i’m so glad that we’re finally done with that process

Roger: james was being so annoying about choosing it

Lily: lol i thought he was funny. and it didn't derail us that much

(Lily doesn’t know where that instinct comes from, the one that tells her to defend James’s honor. Maybe she knows, in her heart of hearts, that he’d do the same for her, without question, because that’s just the kind of person he is. Maybe she imagines him in math class, tapping his pencil against his desk, focused but also not, a reassuring presence. Maybe the image in her head is shifting from the boy he once was to the boy that now sits next to her every day: the one who lets her fight her own battles, the one who doesn’t push her, the one who didn’t ask about Sev after their last encounter. She can’t be sure of it yet, but maybe she’s actually starting to enjoy his company — that is, when she forgets about the past eight years of her life.)

(Or, maybe, she thinks, as she lies down on her bed, watching the bubbles on her phone pop up and disappear over and over again, she knows that disagreeing with Roger will extend their conversation.)

Roger: james is always like that tho

Lily: really? he’s been pretty good lately i thought

Roger: always wants things his way

Roger: idk i shouldn’t be talking about this

Lily: lol

Roger: it’s just that ur nice to talk to

(Roger’s never said that to her before. She wonders if it’s because she really is nice to talk to, or if it’s because she’s just there.)

Lily: lol thanks

Roger: and i feel like i can trust you

(He’s never said that to her before, either. They’ve never really spoken about non-yearbook related things. She doesn’t understand why he’s suddenly acting like they’re friends. She can’t say she doesn’t enjoy the familiarity — this is Roger, after all, and any relationship gain with him is a good one — but she feels blindsided. It was October until people burst into her room telling her it’s Christmas, and now she’s just confused.)

Lily: yeah you can trust me

Roger: cool i’m glad

seen by Lily at 9:46pm (there’s nothing more to say).

***

Texts with Roger Davies, Tuesday, October 27th, 9:50pm

Roger: can i ask you a question

Lily: fire away

Roger: are you coming to the halloween thing this weekend

Lily: yeah was planning on it

Lily: why

Roger: cool maybe i’ll see you there

(Oh.)

(It’s Christmas morning in October. It’s Christmas morning in October.)

(Lily doesn't know much about high school relationships, hookups or otherwise, but she does know this: if a boy asks a girl if she's coming to a party, he did it for a reason. And that reason is usually not so that they can discuss the yearbook.)

Lily: yeah see you there

(There's nothing more to do but wait.)

part three

[djarinbarnes]

novaturient; eleutheromania

eleutreromania ○ an intense and irresistible desire for freedom

Author: Dina. @softboibarnes

Word Count: 1527

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x female reader

Warnings: none. 

Summary: a deeper look into a web of lies......

A/N: I finally got the idea of how to continue this. I’ve been so lost of inspiration tbh, but then it just appeared. I hope you enjoy!

masterpost

Months passed, and in those months, you learned just how vile some people could be. You had never expected that you would be talked down to by someone who seemed so interested in you, and it made your heart clench in your chest.

The first month after the date, James had asked you for multiple reconciliation dates, to which you all answered no. You agreed with yourself, that there was just no way in hell he had changed his set of mind. After his countless attempts, he finally gave up and left you alone.

Or so you thought.

It was barely two months after your first day at the office when the first rumors started going around about you. Something about you and the technician, who you didn’t even know. You heard it in the women’s restroom where you were hiding out for the lunch break, the cramped office becoming too much for you.

“Did you hear about Y/n and Loki? I heard they’ve been canoodling since she got here.” You heard a voice pip up from outside the stall. Your head shot up and your brows furrowed at the confession. You heard another voice speak up shortly after.

“God, she’s over all the guys at this place. First James, then Steve, I think I heard that too, and now Loki. God she’s such a slut.” The two women laughed in that annoyingly nasal way. You sighed, your eyes filling with tears yet again.

This was, apparently, your new every day. Sitting in the restroom, iced coffee in hand, just minding your own business. Listening to gossip, from the witches who had so few braincells, that gossiping was all they could do in their spare time.

It only got worse. Apparently, after a week, you had also seduced the college intern, Peter, who you had barely ever spoken a word to. Then, unimaginably, you had shagged Mr. Tony Stark himself to get a promotion.

You feared you would never find out where the rumors came from, until you a month later found a breach in the office system, leading you to a thread of mails, sent by none other than jbb@starkpublishing.com.

With a swift command P, you finally had some kind of relief from the countless hours you’d already spent in Mr. Stark’s office, trying to address every blatant lie that had been told about you. And now that you finally had your proof, you still halted outside his office doors.

You sighed as you looked down at the papers in your hands, biting your lip to prevent the tears from falling on your cheeks. You were standing there, proof in hands, yet doubting what you were about to do. You know he could potentially get fired, which delighted you. But still, you found yourself feeling bad.

Your fist rapping against the foggy glass door on its own accord pulled you out of your mental battle. You heard him call for you to enter, and you took a few deep breaths before doing so. Once you stood in front of him, your heart was beating so loud in your chest you barely could make out the words he was speaking.

“What can I do for you, y/n?” his warm brown eyes were encouraging you to talk. You felt the heat rise in your cheeks as he took you in, eyes falling to what you had brought along.

“Mr. Stark…” you took a deep breath before handing him the stack of papers you had been carrying. “I wanted to tell you about something that has been going on for the past two or three months.” You watched as he started flipping through the papers you had handed him, his eyes roaming over the letters.

“Sit down please, y/n, I’m guessing you want to go into details with this.” you nodded before sitting down in front of him, letting out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. “How did these mails come into your possession?”

“I stumbled upon a small breach in the firewall when I was doing checkouts on the main account. It was like an anonymous tip email – you could send an email from your own and it would be sent out to selected company emails.” You explained and watched as Tony nodded.

He cleared his throat before signaling you to find it on his stationary. You quickly typed in the passwords and soon after found the small breach, right where you’d found it last time. You retreated back to your chair, and watched as Tony scrolled through the site before closing it down again.

“So, I want to hear your side of the story. And please, start from the beginning, where you think this has its roots.”

With a sigh, you told Tony everything. He watched you as you spoke, telling him about your first week, the date with James, the way he’d overstepped your boundaries and the many times he’d asked you out for a rebound date. How rumors had started to surface, spreading like wildfire throughout the office, and how you’d just a few minutes ago discovered where the rumors originally had come from.

He looked down at the papers, before flipping through, landing on one, before he started to read out loud.

Y/n Y/l/n has taken desperation to new heights with the idea of a promotion lodged so far into her brain, she’s willing to ruin a family in order to get it. I’m not mentioning names, but a certain Stark has been the victim of her latest sexcapade.

Your chin quivered as you heard the words coming out of Tony’s mouth, making it all a little more real. You didn’t know what to say, so with your eyes trained on the floor in front of you, the embarrassment becoming way too much for you to handle, you clamped up like an oyster.

You felt gross, dirty, even though you knew it was a lie. You heard the papers glide over each other, before Tony cleared his throat, making you look up at him. You could clearly see the way he was thinking everything over, and how he was considering his options.

He put the papers down on his desk, before he leaned over the table, elbows resting against the mahogany and chin on the heels of his hands. “Y/n, I would like to hear what you expect me to do about this?” His eyes were friendly, welcoming, and you found yourself trusting him. Before you had the chance to stop yourself, you caught yourself saying,

“I don’t want anyone fired.” With a sigh, you watched as Tony’s features softened. “I don’t want anyone to get fired because of this. It’s blatant lies. I just want… To hold them, him, accountable for what he’s been saying about me.”

“Y/n, I’m going to ask you this, for the sake of these papers. I know it’s personal, and it’s completely alright if you don’t want to tell me.” You nodded, possibly already knowing what he was going to ask you. “Have you had any relations with the men mentioned in these statements?”

You exhaled through your nose, understanding that if just one of the statements were true, some others would be as well.

“No. The only relation I had was with Barnes during my first week. I don’t even think you can call that a relation.” You fiddled your fingers as you awaited his next words, heart beating so loudly you were afraid that Tony would hear it.

“Alright.” Tony straightened himself before he flipped through the pages again, finding his highlighter and marking every sender on the different mails. “I’m going to go through these mails with Barnes. Would you rather I kept it a secret, that you came with these?” Tony looked up and watched as you nodded.

“Very well then.” His eyes fell back onto the papers, his fingers grabbing a pen before scribbling something in his god-awful handwriting. “I’ll have a talk with Barnes.” You let out a relieved sigh, offering him a small smile.

“I can’t promise you there won’t be consequences for him.” Tony wrote another note, before handing it to you. “Most likely a time out and time off for him. A month? Two?” Tony asked you, and you looked down at the note in your hand.

Barnes

Restricted mail access

Starting today

Ending when I say so

You nod, before whispering out a “I guess one month is alright.”

“Great. Will you hand that to Mrs. Potts on the way down? I’ll make sure there will be put an end to this, alright?” Tony rose from his seat and walked around his desk, standing just a little taller than you as he led you to the door. “I want my company to be a safe space. Thank you for bringing that to my attention. You did the right thing.”

“Thank you, Mr. Stark.” You smiled at him before heading back to your workstation, handing Mrs. Potts the note Mr. Stark had given you on your way back. You could already feel the tension lightening as you passed Barnes’ workstation, noting that he hadn’t come in today.

[marvelship-oneshots]

PROFESSOR (WINTERIRON)

N/A AU inspired by the movie Good Will Hunting, where Tony is the professor and Bucky the janitor. [2.6k words]

//SMUT WARNING// "Dismissed" Bucky, as the professor dismissed the class, sneaked out, carefully avoiding being noticed. The other students usually stayed in the class to ask a few more question to the professor. Bucky slid into the broom closet, changing into his blue overall. He still had a couple of minutes until his shift started. He sat on the small chair, waiting for the students to clear the room. Or that's what he told himself. The truth was that he was waiting for the professor to leave. He wasn't a student there, he just worked as a janitor, but he liked physics and most of all, he liked the professor. Professor Stark was overwhelmingly handsome. And this was not only Bucky's opinion, everybody thought that and it was the reason why the Advanced Physics course was more crowded than ever. People, girls in particular, went into that classroom because Tony Stark was a good-looking bachelor but they stayed because he was an even better professor. He loved his job, he loved teaching, shaping young minds, telling them all the secrets of physics. And he did it with such passion that everyone of his students had fallen in love with the subject. On his first day on the job, Bucky stumbled into the classroom, thinking that the lecture must have been over, but the class was in between a beautifully heated discussion with the professor. Bucky sat in the last row, trying not to catch anyone's attention, and just listened to Tony speaking in such a beautiful, pleasant way, that made him want to study again. But there was no way he could ever afford college in general, leave alone MIT. So he decided to get on the job earlier than his shifts and sit in class, just listening to the lecture, just for the sake of it. Bucky's life hadn't been exactly easy. He grew up in a poor family, with way too many kids. He went to school, and actually did good, until it was strictly necessary, and even then, he would work until night to bring home as much money as possible. After he finished school, he started working in a factory, where he worked until the incident, making barely as much as he needed to get to the end of the month. After the incident, he moved to Boston, wanting to put his New York life behind him. There he found a job as a janitor at MIT and from that point on, well, we know the story. Bucky made sure that the room was finally empty and walked in, dragging the trolley behind him. He worked his way down to the Professor's desk. On the big back board there was written a problem, left there for the students to solve. Professor Stark would write a really difficult problem on the board and whoever solved it would get an A. Bucky had listened just to a bunch of lectures but, just by looking at the problem, he thought of what could maybe be the solution. Bucky looked for a piece of chalk to write the answer, and then proceeded to finish cleaning up.

"Take your places" Tony walked in, placing the briefcase on the desk. The student were mumbling, looking at the problem on the blackboard. "So let's see the solution of the problem" he said turning towards the board, looking at the solution written with an unstable and messy handwriting. "Who did this?" He asked, facing his audience. Bucky, who was sitting on a small chair next to the exit door, as usual, just wanted to disappear. The students were looking at each other, trying to figure out who did it. "I don't bite, c'mon guys" the professor encouraged. No one was answering. "Well, if no one wants to come out, too bad for them, because it's going to cost you an A. Congratulations" Tony started explaining why the solution is right and then proceeded with the lecture. In all of this, Bucky was sitting, silently,on his chair, captured by the professor's voice. Once the lesson was over, Bucky slid into the closet and then started his shift. On the board in professor Stark's classroom, there was another problem. Bucky sat on the professor's desk, trying to figure the solution out and, as soon as it came to him, he wrote it on the board. Just as the previous day, the students noticed right away that someone had figured it out the problem. And once again, Tony tried to make the genius come forward. This routine went on for a couple of weeks, everyday Tony would write a more and more difficult problem on the board, Bucky would solve it in secret and let him wonder who between his students was stupid enough to solve the problems but not come to get their As. One day Tony decided that it was time to challenge his genius student with one of the most difficult problems he had ever faced and that he himself had never been able to solve. He also decided to sit in his cabinet to see who was the mystery student because if they could solve that problem, he might have a real genius in his class. Bucky dragged the cart all the way down and, as usual, he sat on the desk, trying to figure out that impossible problem. He started walking around the room, doing his job while thinking about a possible solution. And then it came to him. He sprinted to the board, grabbing the chalk and writing down the solution. When he finished, he left the chalk in the small box and went back to cleaning the room. Tony opened the door after seeing the guy watching attempting to solve the problem. Bucky didn't even hear the door opening. "It was you all along then huh?" Tony broke the silence. Bucky turned towards the professor, blushing. "Uhm I guess" Tony glanced at the board. "That's...that's impressive. Do you study here?" Bucky shook his head, embarrassed. "I know you. You're the one that's always sitting by the door" Bucky's eyes widened. He knew he could get in trouble. "Yes, I notice everything" the professor said winking. Bucky nodded, scratching the back of his head. "You do know that this is one of the most difficult problems of physics, right? I mean genius level shit" Tony sat on the desk and Bucky finally looked at him. He was wearing a grey tight-fitting suit, a white shirt underneath and a red tie. His hair was messy but short and had a cleanly shaved beard. Tony definitely didn't look like a 50-year-old man and Bucky had never been more attracted to him. On the other hand, Bucky was a mess. He was wearing the blue overall and a pair of dirty white sneakers. His hair was long and up in a messy bun and he definitely hadn't recently shaved. "Uhm, I just... I just listen" Bucky looked down at his feet. "Have you ever thought about college?" Tony asked. Bucky shook his head. "I cannot afford it" Bucky had never been ashamed of his situation, he knew that his parents had always tried the best to give him a decent life. "There are scholarships you could apply for" suggested Tony. Bucky shrugged. He knew about the scholarships, of course, but if he went to college, he wouldn't have time to work and therefore he wouldn't have money. Bucky leaned against one of the desks. "I wouldn't have time to work tho" Tony walked towards Bucky. "You have potential

-Tony looked at the name tag on Bucky's overall- James. It's not everyday you find someone that can solve that problem with such ease". The professor placed a hand on Bucky's shoulder, feeling the hard metal of the prosthetic arm, but he didn't pay much attention to it. "Let me take care of you. I'll get you back on track and get you at you best to assure you a scholarship at any Ivy League school." Tony winked, attracted by the young man "You know, it would be a crime towards the scientific community if I let you go"

Buy had decided to accept Tony's invitations.  Everyday he would sit in class, listening to the professor's lectures and, after his shifts, he spent the evening in Tony's penthouse while the older helped him getting ready for his scholarship application, giving him practice tests and essays. For months Tony ad Bucky spend every night together and soon their mentor/mentee relationship became a friendship. They wouldn't only practice academically, but they started hanging out just for the sake of it. They would stay up all night, chatting, joking, watching movies, simply enjoying their time together. Most nights Bucky would spend the night at Tony's. As they became closer and closer, Bucky's affection for Tony grew and he arrived at the point of loving him. He never did anything, though. They had a great relationship and he didn't want to ruin it. Little did Bucky know that his feeling were reciprocated. But, just as Bucky was, Tony was scared to take the first step.

Bucky walked home from his shift, listening to music on the new hone Tony got him for Christmas. Bucky opened the mail box to check if he had gotten some news from the colleges. Tony had convinced him to sent an admission to every major Ivy League universities, promising him that, if he didn't get a scholarship, he would take care of his tuition. Inside the box, Bucky saw a big envelope. Usually, big envelopes meant good news. On the envelope there was the stamp oh Harvard. Bucky's heart started beating faster and faster, he ran upstairs, got changed and headed to Tony's place. As every other night, they were supposed to meet. Bucky sat on Tony's white sofa, shaking, with the the envelope in his hands. Tony took from the fridge a bottle of champagne and sat next to Bucky. Tony caressed Bucky's knee trying to calm him down. Bucky looked at Tony, who nodded, encouraging him to open the envelope. "Accepted". That was th only word Bucky read, and it was the only word he cared about. They both jumped up and Bucky threw himself at Tony, picking him up from the floor, laughing and crying at the same time. SWhen Bucky put him back on the floor, Tony still had both his arms around Bucky's neck and Bucky's arm was still around Tony's waist. They were close. Really close. We're breathing the same air close. Bucky was looking at Tony's lips, wanting to kiss them, but Tony, with a hand on Bucky's chest, pulled away, grabbing the bottle and opening it, pouring the champagne in two tall crystal glasses.

That night, Bucky went home and the day after, as very other day, he went to work. He stopped at a liquor store to get Tony a bottle of scotch to thank him for everything he did for him. At the end of his shift, Bucky went to check if Tony was still in his office or if he had to stop by his house. Tony was there, kind of hoping Bucky would stop by. He was looking into some assignments his students had just turned in, but all he could think of was the night before and how close they were. He felt good into his arm, he needed Bucky's touch on his skin. Bucky knocked twice "It's open, come in" Tony answered, without looking up from his desk. Bucky opened the door. "Am I disturbing you?" He asked, standing in the doorway. Tony looked up and looked at Bucky with his mouth slightly open. Bucky was wearing a long sleeved gray t-shirt, that was tight around his chest and his arm. One sleeve was empty, Tony was working on a new arm for Bucky. In his hand Bucky was holding a colorful paper bag. Tony walked over to him. "No, of course not" he said smiling. Bucky handed him the paper bag and Tony took out the bottle of scotch Bucky had chosen for him. "You didn't need to. It probably costed you a fortune" Tony said smiling at Bucky. He was aware of Bucky's financial situation. "You did a lot for me, Tony" Bucky replied scratching his neck. Tony put the bottle on the coffee table standing next to him and pulled Bucky into a hug. "It was my greatest pleasure" he whispered in his ear. Tony let go of him, but Bucky left his arm around Tony's waist. Tony placed both hands on Bucky's chest. Bucky was staring at Tony's pink lips and Tony wouldn't dare to look up at Bucky. When he finally did, Bucky moved closer to Tony's face. They both wanted each other. Tony moved one arm around Bucky's neck and Bucky pulled him closer with his arm, not handling the distance anymore, and pulled their lips together. Tony was pleasantly surprised and kissed him back, pushing him against the door in order to close it. Feeling the hard door handle on his back, Bucky gasped and Tony, taking the chance, shoved his tongue into his mouth. Without parting, Bucky pushed Tony towards the desk, until Tony's ass met the hard wooden table. Tony pulled away to clean the desk, shoving everything on the floor and Bucky kissing making his way down Tony's neck. Tony sat on the table and pulled Bucky closer to him. Bucky bit Tony's neck and Tony tired to stay as silent as possible until Bucky ripped Tony's shirt open and started kissing him on his shoulder blade, when Tony let out a loud moan. Bucky looked at him with a smirk and Tony cupped his face, kissing his little smile. Tony stripped of the remains of his white shirt and helped Bucky taking his shirt off. Tony pulled away, looking at him in awe. He locked his legs around Bucky's waist. Bucky lifted him, walking over to the sofa, gently laying him on his back. Tony started to undo Bucky's belt, pulling down both his pants and underwear. Tony caressed Bucky's member, while he tried to take off Tony's pants with his one hand. As they were both naked, Bucky started kissing Tony's chest. He looked at the Tony in the eyes, asking for permission, which Tony granted. Bucky licked his fingers and prepped him, trying to find the right spot. As soon as Tony was ready, Bucky entered him, letting him adjust to him and, as soon as Tony was comfortable, he started pounding faster and faster. Tony intertwined his hand into Bucky's long locks and, when he reached his climax, his back curved and he pulled Bucky closer to him.

Bucky was lightly snoring on Tony's chest, with their legs entangled. The soft silky white bed sheet was covering their bodies and the light sun rays were filtering in the room from the glass walls, lighting up Tony's modern bedroom and waking him up. Tony looked down at Bucky, playing with his long hair. Just a few minutes later, the alarm rang. Bucky groaned, rolling over to turn it off with his new arm. Tony chuckled and Bucky pulled him into his arms, kissing the top of his head. Tony looked up to him and Bucky kissed his lips, only  to scoot him over, standing over him. Bucky started kissing his chest and, against his own will, Tony pulled him away. Bucky looked at him a bit disappointed and set up,  giving his back to Tony. Tony rolled his eyes and growled back to Bucky, hugging him from behind. "We wouldn't want you to be late on your first day of college, now would we?" Bucky shook his head, holding onto Tony's arms and kissed his wrist. "I love you babe" Tony kissed his neck. "I love you more"

N/A: I honestly didn't plan for it to become a sugar daddy kind of story but alright, I hope you enjoyed it!

[judgmentofcorruption]

Episode 6–The Sinking Story; Scene 3

Judgment of Corruption, pages 189-196

After that, Ma formally came to assist the USE allied forces as per Tony’s request.

“Though I don’t know how much help I’ll be.”

Tony grinned at Ma’s remark. “That’s alright. If you need anything at all, just let these two know.” He introduced two young soldiers who had similar features to each other. “This is second lieutenant Nyoze Octo and sergeant major Gammon Octo. They’re brothers. Nyoze is the older, and Gammon is the younger. They have Jakokuan ancestry, so you might find them easier to deal with.”

The Octo brothers saluted Ma.

“Pleased to meet you.”

“—Oh yes, the pleasure is mine. I’m quite happy to have such attractive young men at my side.”

Some lodging that was one of the military facilities was set aside for Ma’s new place of residence.

.

At Gallerian’s estate, Michelle was proposing an idea to her father in the living room.

“A trip?”

“Yeah. I was thinking we could go during break. Since I’ll be really busy once college starts up.”

“Is Mama going to go with you?”

“Yeah. So—I was wondering if you could come along.”

But Gallerian regretfully shook his head.

“I can’t just take time off work. Papa has only just become the director, and he’s very busy.”

“Alriiight…I guess it can’t be helped.”

“Where are you planning to go for the trip?”

“At first I thought it would be nice to go to Maistia where Bruno’s from, but Mama said that would be too far.”

“And they’re in the middle of a civil war right now.”

“Right. So I thought we’d go instead to your homeland of Marlon, Papa. I wanna see Grandpa, since it’s been so long.”

“That sounds fine. I’m sure he’ll be happy to see you.”

“We’re planning to be there about two weeks, so we’re going next week.”

“—I’ll be lonely while you’re gone.”

“You’ll be alright. You’ll have Bruno and the other servants with you.”

“I’ll still be lonely.”

“I’ll call you every day.”

“And you better not get mixed up with any strange men over there.”

“Aw, come on. You’re always saying that, Papa.”

As the two of them laughed together, they could hear the doorbell ring outside.

After a short while, Larisa appeared before them.

“Begging your pardon, Sir—Lady ‘Ma’ has come to see you.”

“I see. Send her in.”

Michelle asked Gallerian, “Is it a visitor? Maybe I should head out.”

“No—Stay here. She might have come to see you.”

Ma appeared in the living room, brought along by Larisa.

“Good day.”

When Michelle greeted her, Ma broke into a grin.

“Good day, young miss—I’m a friend of your father’s, and the screenwriter named Kayo Sudou. I’d like it if you called me ‘Ma’.”

“Uh huh…” While making a half-hearted reply, Michelle gazed intently at Ma.

“Is there something on my face?”

“No—I mean, I’ve only seen her in photographs, but…You look a lot like my late grandma.”

“Oh my, heh heh…It’s a bit of a long story, but I changed my face out of admiration for your grandmother.”

“Wow…That’s amazing.”

Gallerian butted into the conversation, “Even so…It’s odd you haven’t aged at all, despite fourteen years going by.”

“You know of the facility ‘Lunaca Labora’, yes? This is a gift from there.”

“So you’re saying there’s a device amongst its machines that can preserve beauty.”

Being an adolescent herself, Michelle reacted sharply to the mention of the word beauty. “That’s curious. Maybe you should take me to this facility.”

“Hahaha, I think that would be unnecessary for you, Miss Michelle. You are quite lovely enough without using such means. –You look exactly as I thought you would.”

“…?”

“Though whatever the case I’d like to take a day to talk to you, if I may.”

“I’m curious about you too. Including the matter of this beauty machine. But I’m planning to leave Levianta on a trip next week.”

“That’s unfortunate. Then I suppose we’ll have to save it for another day, after you get back.” Ma then turned to Gallerian. “I did come here to see your daughter today—but I also have a favor I would like to ask of you.”

“What is it? I’m all ears.”

“Since I’ve returned to society after so long away, I was thinking that I might make a new movie soon. My occupation is that of a screenwriter, after all.”

“A movie, huh—But you would need a lot of money for that.”

“Indeed. Therefore…I need to ask someone wealthy to provide the funds.”

“You’re asking me to be your sponsor?”

Michelle laughed and clapped innocently, listening in from the side. “A movie! That’s great! It sounds like fun.”

“Hmm. I don’t know…” Gallerian’s brow furrowed. “It’s not like I don’t have money to spare. But in all honestly, most of it is my wife’s money—or, more accurately, it’s assistance from her family. I myself have only just become director, so I haven’t been able to save all that much yet…”

As Gallerian was faltering, Ma shoved a book before him.

“What’s this?”

“It’s the ‘Daughter of Evil’, penned by Yukina Freezis—I was wanting to use it as the basis for this movie.”

“The ‘Daughter of Evil’…That’s the story of the princess who set the stage for the Lucifenian Revolution—But I’m quite sure someone’s already made this into a movie.”

“That’s true. But the ‘Daughter of Evil’ that I have has slightly different contents than the version that is widely known. It is the true story of the ‘Daughter of Evil’, that Yukina Freezis wrote in secret—I’m positive that it will be the subject of much conversation once it’s been screened.”

“Hum…”

“In either case, this book was written pertaining to both your ancestor, ‘Kyle Marlon’, and the ‘Elluka Clockworker’ of the time, someone that I and your mother idolized. I was thinking that you might still enjoy it even as mere reading material. We’ll leave the matter of funding for after you’ve read it—just so long as you give the matter some thought.”

“…Alright. I’ll read it on my day off. Do you mind if I borrow the book?”

“Go ahead. But you must make sure to return it once you’re done reading. There are some records on ‘dead soldiers’ in the book as well, so I want to lend it to General Tony later.”

Gallerian nodded and started to flip through the book that had been handed to him.

“…This book seems to be written in Yukina Freezis’ own handwriting. It looks to have a great deal of historical value. I’ll treat it carefully.”

Michelle peered at the book from the side with great interest.

“The ‘Daughter of Evil’. I read that when I was a kid.”

Ma smiled again at the sight of that. “In the event that the movie is made, perhaps you could play a part in it, Miss Michelle. I think you’d be perfect for the role of ‘Michaela’, the woman with whom King Kyle falls in love—Now then, I’ve got some other matters to attend to, so I’ll leave it there.”

Ma bowed her head a touch, then left Gallerian’s estate.

.

--But in the end, the “Daughter of Evil” movie was never screened, nor was Michelle ever to play a role in it.

Three weeks later, an event occurred that caused a rapid transformation in Gallerian’s life.

To a man like him who led an unsatisfactory married life, his daughter Michelle was the sole person to whom he could devote his affection.

It would not be an exaggeration to say that now that he had fulfilled his personal goals to a certain degree, Michelle was everything to Gallerian.

.

Midway through its return voyage from Marlon, the ship that Michelle and her mother were riding on, the “S.S. Titanis”—

Met with an unexpected event, and sank to the bottom of the sea.

<<prev------directory------next>>